Lineage
by Paige242
Summary: Roman Godfrey spent seventeen years protecting his daughter from the terrible truth about her lineage. But when Olivia returns to Hemlock Grove, will he be able to keep his family's secrets buried? (Peter/Roman)
1. Chapter 1

Although the thought of returning to Hemlock Grove had initially filled Olivia with a spark of excitement, now that she was standing on the quaint main street she could honestly say that she hadn't missed the place at all.

In truth, the town had never really felt like home— Olivia Godfrey had always been too grand for such a mundane and pedestrian locale. She had spent the last decade feeding and fucking her way across the capitals of Europe and there was no doubt that that was more her style. Paris, Vienna, Milan…that was where she belonged. She would have been happy to continue that lifestyle indefinitely but, during the past few months, she had begun to feel that her obligations lay elsewhere—at least for now. Despite what some people thought, she _did_ harbour some sentimental attachments. Olivia cared about her children and, more than anything, she cared about her grandchild.

Olivia had never intended to leave them for this long.

She had been furious, at first, when her son had banished her in the aftermath of Norman and Pricilla's deaths. Roman had barely been able to contain his rage and had threatened to rip her throat out if she didn't leave the state—she took his words seriously, but she had expected him to cool down and beckon her back after a year or so. He had still been new to his powers back then, and she had hardly had a chance to guide him.

But Roman was nothing if not stubborn.

She had made several attempts to reach out to him, to guide him in his new life— but all of her efforts were in vain. It grieved her to think about how vehemently he had rejected who he was. He had always been her little prince—beautiful, elegant and fierce. In theory, the perfect picture of upirism. But he simply refused to acknowledge her, even now. Although her icy exterior masked it well, the pain of his rejection still stung.

That did not mean, however, that all of her family was completely lost. Shelly had always been a more forgiving soul and her granddaughter was a completely unknown factor.

Olivia had only seen the child a handful of times during her infancy and she was certain that Nadia would have no memory of it. The girl was nearly seventeen now and, if her father had not poisoned her too severely against Olivia, there was still hope that she could form a connection with her.

And that was why she had returned to this god-forsaken place.

She knew that it was a risk, and that she'd have to tread carefully, but she had decided that it was worth it. Roman had rejected his birthright, but there was still hope for Nadia. She too had been born with the caul and Olivia was certain that the girl was upir. She had sensed it as soon as she had first laid eyes on the child.

Olivia could scarcely believe her luck. She had spent centuries trying to conceive an upir child until Roman came along—but he had been blessed enough to be given a gifted child on his first attempt.

He, of course, hadn't seen it that way and had even threatened to subject the girl to Pryce's treatments when she came of age. That, too, had stung Olivia deeply and she had been relived when Pryce had informed her that his experimental treatments on her son had failed. Roman would never be human.

And neither would his daughter.

That, at least, had brought her some relief.

Knowing her son, he probably hadn't told the girl anything about her heritage in a pathetic attempt to "protect" her from her fate. But there was no way to avoid the inevitable, and Olivia was there to ensure that the girl progressed properly. Roman could keep up his human masquerade if he wanted but Nadia deserved better.

Nadia deserved _proper_ guidance.

Olivia's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the quiet street. She still had allies in this town and she had a few hazy pictures of her grown granddaughter to work from.

She was determined to find the girl.

She was determined to set things right.

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"Dad? I'm home!"

Nadia Godfrey dropped the grocery bags she had been carrying in the spacious foyer and let out a sigh of relief. She wished her heart would stop racing, but it seemed to be beyond her control. It was foolish to feel so rattled after such a simple outing, and she chastised herself for her behaviour, but she was unable to ignore her uneasiness.

It really shouldn't have been a big deal. Her dad had asked her to pick up a few things from the butcher's shop on the way home from school and she had (reluctantly) obliged.

It should have been routine.

Simple.

But while she liked to help her dad out when she could, this was the one task she hated most. Nadia would never admit this to her father, or anyone else for that matter, but she had been doing her best to avoid the butcher's for the past year or so. She knew it was unusual, and it made her feel like a freak, but something about that place overwhelmed her senses and made her heart pound rapidly in her chest.

It wasn't because she was disgusted by the sight of so much raw meat, but rather because she craved it.

Recently, the sight and smell of uncooked steaks dripping in their red juices made her mouth water and left an unsettled feeling in her stomach. She tried to tell herself that it was probably just a sign of an iron deficiency, but she'd never been able to shake the feeling that there was something else behind her cravings.

Something more unusual…

Proper, normal, seventeen year old girls were not supposed to love the taste of raw meat.

And Nadia Godfrey had been trained to be proper from birth.

For as long as she could remember, she had tried to emulate her father's example. Especially in public. He was always poised, always refined, always in control. That was how a Godfrey was supposed to be.

But, more often than not, Nadia found herself secretly giving into temptation. On this particular occasion, she had purchased an extra sirloin which she had consumed ashamedly (and, hopefully, discretely) in her car before setting off towards home.

Her stomach had felt much better after that, but she had been left with an increasingly familiar sense of anxiety and embarrassment.

Nadia had long ago resolved not to say anything about her strange snacks. Although she had a good relationship with her father, silence was a valued part of the Godfrey household.

It seemed better to leave things unsaid.

As she heard her dad's footsteps approach, Nadia took a quick glance in a nearby mirror to make sure that there was no evidence of her earlier transgression on her face.

Thankfully, she was safe.

"Hello, princess." Her father greeted with an uncharacteristically wide grin as he emerged from the kitchen.

Nadia could tell instantly that he was in a very good mood and the girl tried to hold back a giggle as she took in his appearance. Her father was usually immaculately groomed with freshly pressed shirts and nary a hair out of place. But right now, his business attire was covered by a filthy white chefs' apron and there were flecks of flour in his dark blonde hair.

She grinned back.

"What _are_ you doing? Are you cooking!?" She asked, picking up the grocery bags and passing them to him. "Where is Remy?"

Remy was their chef and he almost always prepared their meals. She'd only seen her dad cook a handful of times (usually with disastrous results)— it was no secret that Roman Godfrey had never been domestically inclined. He'd grown up with servants and he now employed his own.

Clearly, something was up.

"I gave Remy the afternoon off." Roman replied before planting a gentle kiss on top of her blonde head. "Peter's back, and we're making pască."

Nadia's eyes instantly lit up and, before she knew it, her feet were carrying her rapidly towards the kitchen. Her heart was now beating rapidly for an entirely different reason.

Peter was here! Peter was back! All worried thoughts of meat and cravings instantly flew out of her head.

He had been gone for almost three months this time (to visit his mother in Romania) and they had definitely missed him. But, as much as she and her father wanted him to stick around, they both accepted that he couldn't be tamed. Peter was a gypsy to the core and he had never been able to stay put for too long. When he was in town—which usually ended up being about 6 months each year— he lived with them. Nadia had always called him Uncle Peter, but he was really more of a second father to her and things never quite felt right unless he was home.

She knew her dad felt the same way. He never argued when Peter left for one of his trips, but he always moped for a few days after Peter departed.

Nadia had always known that her dad and Peter had a unique relationship— they were best friends, co-parents, confidants and, sometimes, more. No one outside their household would ever quite understand, but it made sense to them, and that was all that really mattered.

"Uncle Peter!" Nadia could barely contain her excitement as she caught sight of him in the kitchen. Unlike her father, he wasn't covered in flour but he had a similarly wide smile on his face.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite _gadjo_ girl!" He exclaimed affectionately as he drew her into a warm embrace. For the briefest of seconds, she could have sworn that she saw him frown but, if he did, he recovered quickly. "I missed you."

"We missed you too." Nadia replied, "Why didn't you tell us you were coming back?"

"Because I love surprises…and I never want to be predictable."

The girl rolled her eyes in mock annoyance but, before she could retort, Peter grabbed a lumpy package off of the kitchen table and handed it to her.

He never returned from his trips empty handed and, although Nadia hadn't done much travelling herself, she had quite the collection of unique artefacts from around the world.

"When I saw this I knew I had to get it for you." Peter said, "An old woman in one of the Romani camps was making them, and I thought this one was perfect."

Excited, Nadia pulled back the wrapping to reveal a beautiful golden dress. She'd never seen anything quite like it—even in the dim light of the kitchen it shone impressively and, as she held it up she could not help but admire the intricate patterns of the fabric. It was hard to believe that something this stunning had been entirely hand made.

Peter was right, it was perfect.

"I love it!" Nadia said, still marvelling at the softness of the golden threads between her fingers. She held it up for her dad to see. "What do you think?"

He was leaning against the kitchen doorway, smiling as he watched the exchange between his two favourite people.

"It's lovely, princess." He paused. "Why don't you put it in the other room so that we don't get it dirty. We have pies to finish and steaks to prepare."

Unable to wipe the wide grin form her face, Nadia darted into the living room, gift in hand.

After a tiring week at school and an unnerving afternoon, she couldn't wait to spend the evening cooking, eating and laughing with the two best dads in the world.

This was exactly what she needed.

For a while, at least, her troubles seemed to fade away.

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Roman watched as Peter leaned back against his chair and stretched his muscular arms with a yawn. It was nearly one am, and there was no doubt that both men had had a long day but, while Nadia had gone to be several hours ago, neither was quite ready to call it quits.

It had been too long since they had enjoyed each other's company and they were happily catching up over wine and cigarettes at the dining room table.

It felt like old times.

It felt right.

Roman always missed having Peter at his side when he was gone. Nadia and his CEO duties kept him busy, of course, but things were never quite right when the other man was not at his side. They had never assigned each other a title, but he always knew that Peter was _his_, no matter how many times Peter left or how many other people they fucked.

He had also accepted long ago that Peter's inability to stay put was part of who he was.

_A gypsy is a gypsy is a gypsy. _

As hard as it could be at times, it was one of the many things Roman loved about him and he would never try to change it.

"So, nothing exciting to report around here, then?" Peter asked, reaching towards the ashtray to pick up his half-finished smoke.

Roman shrugged. "Nothing compared to your adventures." He began, running a hand through his hair. "Pryce has become increasingly tame in his old age, and only pissed me off once this month. Shelly has been renovating her apartment at the tower so that she has a better place to work on her novels. It's nearly done."

There was a brief pause before Peter pushed for more.

"And Nadia? Any…developments?"

Nadia had shared all of her latest news during and after dinner and there had been nothing out of the ordinary. She'd been in the school play, her grades were all solid A's and B's, Roman had spoiled her with a new car in September.

As much as Roman wanted to brush off Peter's inquiry and tell him that he already knew all that there was to know, he owed the man an open discussion. Inevitable absences aside, Peter had helped him raise her and loved Nadia as his own.

"I wish I could say no." Roman began reluctantly before taking one last drag of his cigarette. "I wish, more than anything, that I could tell you that she was just a regular teenage girl. But—" he paused, averting his pale green eyes towards the table to avoid Peter's gaze. "I can sense something lately. She hasn't said anything to me, and I don't even know how to broach the subject but she seems, I don't know…anxious, I guess. Quieter. I wish I could get her to tell me what is bothering her, and I'm pretty sure I already know, but I don't know what to say without telling her everything."

Peter nodded sympathetically. He did not, of course, know exactly what Roman was going through, but he knew that the man had always felt repulsed about what he was. And about what his daughter had inherited.

"Do you think that maybe it's time, then?" Peter began cautiously. "To tell her, I mean."

Roman felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and he let out a short, ragged, breath. Although a part of him felt that Peter was right, he knew that he could not bring himself to do it. Not yet. Maybe it was foolish, but he wanted his daughter to have every last second of innocence that she could.

When she was younger, he had thought long and hard about what, and when, he was going to tell her what he was.

What _they_ were.

He had resented his mother for keeping secrets from him, and he had considered telling Nadia everything as soon as she was old enough to understand. But every time he had looked into innocent clear blue eyes, he knew that he wasn't strong enough to take away the normal childhood that she deserved.

Her brief abduction by Dr. Spivack had been the last sign of supernatural disturbance in her life. They'd rescued her from his clutches before he managed to do any more damage, and the toxins he had infected her with had quickly cleared. After that, she had displayed no further powers or signs of upirism.

He knew, of course, that he had passed on his cursed genes, but Roman still maintained hope that he would be able to protect her from a dark fate. If she never took her own life, she would never fully turn. And he could teach her to overcome any minor signs of her condition that manifested.

As of now, he wasn't certain that she was exhibiting any traits at all. He'd never seen any evidence of mind control or an affinity for blood. Her mother had been human, and he'd still been half-human when she had been conceived. Perhaps quarter-upirs were able to live relatively normal lives…

"I…I can't tell her." Roman said softly, finally looking up to meet Peter's eyes.

The other man sighed. "But you just said it yourself—it seems like she's going through something right now. Maybe she needs to know. Remember how confused you were back when I met you? Maybe—"

"No." Roman repeated firmly. "I'm probably just imagining it. She is a teenage girl, and being a teenager sucks. It could be entirely unrelated." He hoped he sounded convincing.

Peter pursed his lips, and Roman could tell instantly that there was something he wanted to say.

Peter had never been good at hiding his thoughts. He didn't have the icy mask that Roman had long ago perfected.

"What?" Roman pressed, a bit more harshly than he intended. "You're obviously holding something back."

There was a slight pause—it was clear that the gypsy was very hesitant to share his thoughts.

"Look, you're not going to like this, so promise not to rip my throat out…"

Roman glared across the table. Many would have faltered under this gaze, but Peter knew his friend too well to stop now.

"I didn't want to say anything earlier," Peter began again, "But when Nadia came in today, I could sense it. Much stronger than ever before."

Roman felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew what Peter was implying, but he needed to hear it.

"What?" the blonde replied coolly, his face carefully controlled. He knew (and hated) that he probably looked like Olivia when he wore this expression, but it had always been automatic.

Like it or not, he was his mother's son.

And Nadia was her father's daughter.

"Her upirism." Peter said softly, confirming Roman's deepest fear. "When she hugged me I could sense it. I could smell it. And the wolf inside of me was telling me to run. That's never happened before."

Roman flinched. Peter's words pierced him like a wooden stake.

He felt sick.

And guilty.

And angry.

Every bad emotion swirled around inside of him like one big, overwhelming mess.

_It was all his fault. _

Letha had been beautiful and tender and kind. _Human._ He was the monster. He was the reason his daughter, his precious innocent daughter, would one day suffer. His princess deserved a more worthy father. She didn't deserve this curse.

Peter reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm but Roman quickly jerked it away.

"I need a fucking drink." He growled.

In times like these, his hunger was the one thing that could distract him from his rage.

For an upir, hunger was the only thing stronger than hate and anger.

For once, he was grateful for it.

Naively, Peter reached for the wine bottle, eliciting a bitter scoff from his companion.

"Not that kind of drink, you dumb mutt." He spat, his fangs suddenly flashing dangerously.

Part of him felt bad for taking out his emotions on Peter—after all, he had asked for the truth. But he was too wrapped up in his own head to apologize now.

Roman roughly pushed back his chair and took several large steps across the room towards an old wooden cabinet in the back corner. Realization dawned on Peter's face.

They both knew what Roman kept in there.

After placing his thumb on the artfully concealed high-tech lock, the cabinet door flung to reveal of stack of neatly stacked red bags, each the size of a carton of milk. Hastily, Roman grabbed one and made his way back to the table.

Peter, wisely, said nothing during this entire process. He knew what Roman was like when he was angry and he knew that he had to calm himself down. There was simply no other way.

With a low growl, Roman sunk his razor-sharp teeth into the bag. His eyes closed as he began to drink its contents and, even from across the table, Peter could tell that his heartbeat and breathing were beginning to return to normal.

When he had drained over half of the bag, Roman finally came up for air and wiped a stray drop of blood off of his chin.

There was a brief pause before Peter dared to speak again.

"Is it bad that I like watching you drink?" Peter asked, a hint of a playful smirk on his lips. "Especially when you let me see your fangs."

Thankfully, Roman let out a small chuckle. "It's pretty damn twisted." He said, his voice devoid of his earlier anger. "But then again, I like watching you turn…so I guess we're even."

For a second, they shared a smile and the world felt right again.

But all too quickly, Roman's mind returned to the real matter at hand.

"What the fuck am I going to do, Peter?" he asked. He could feel a prickling sensation behind his eyes, but he was losing the willpower to keep his emotions inside.

As much as he hated the entire situation, he was glad that Peter was there. There was no way in hell that he could do this alone.

"There is no parenting book for this sort of thing. And god knows my mother set a pretty shitty example."

He shuttered for a second, his mind drifting back to the moment when he had discovered what he truly was. It had undoubtedly been one of the worst experiences of his life. If Nadia had to find out, he was determined to make to a far less traumatic revelation.

"Am I supposed to sit her down at the breakfast table and say "_guess what, princess, we're vampires and the world is full of scary supernatural shit._""

Peter scoffed. "That probably isn't the best approach." He noted, laying a sympathetic hand on Roman's unnaturally pale arm. This time, Roman didn't pull away.

"You're right," Peter continued, "There is not guideline for this sort of thing. But we can't avoid it forever. We'll figure it out, because we have to. And we'll do it together."

Roman let out a shaky breath.

There was no clear approach to take in this uncharted territory, but he knew that Peter was right.

They'd find a way.

And at least they had each other.

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_A/N— Tell me what you think. I hope to have more soon if people are interested! _


	2. Chapter 2

She knew it was her the second the girl left the butcher's shop.

Even without a picture of her granddaughter, Olivia would have known.

Although she was a bit shorter than expected (undoubtedly due to her mother's genes), there was no doubt that the girl was Roman Godfrey's child. Dark blonde hair, full lips, piercing eyes— even her posture and the way she walked.

All of it instantly reminded Olivia of her son.

The woman felt a pang of regret as she watched Nadia walk down the block and get into a gleaming gold Porche. She could not help but think about Roman when he had been that age… before he had despised her. Things had not been perfect then, but they had been good. Olivia had mothered him in the only way she knew how—doting on him like the little emperor he was. And, despite his snide remarks and rebellious behaviour, she knew that he had loved her.

All of that, of course, had turned to ash in the year following his change. Upon reflection, Olivia was willing to admit that some of her actions at the time had been…extreme. But she had been too excited by the thought of him embracing his destiny to think about the sort of grudge he might hold over the events involving Letha and the baby. Olivia had truly expected him to be thankful for his gifts. To stay at her side as she taught him what it meant to be upir.

She'd thought that it would bring them closer.

But he had rejected it all. He'd hated what he was and he wanted her out of his life.

Her actions at the White Tower had solidified the wedge between them. She had cured her physical ailments on that fateful night, but her heartache had multiplied tenfold.

"_If I see you again, I will tear you to shreds." _Roman's words still rung painfully in her head, even now.

But, despite it all, Olivia had never completely given up hope. She still dreamt of a reunion. Still dreamt of roaming the streets of Europe with her son and granddaughter, hunting for whores and vagabonds, grinning together as they drank their fill. That was what the upir matriarch had always wanted.

And she knew that Nadia was now the key.

Nadia was her second chance.

With a smile, Olivia watched the girl from afar. She was in her car now, but she had not driven away. She was hunched over, consuming something wrapped in a small piece of brown paper with the sort of ravenous hunger Olivia knew all too well.

"Yes," the woman muttered to herself, scarcely able to contain the joy welling inside of her.

The time for redemption was near.

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"I forgot how peaceful it is out here in the morning."

Roman looked over at Peter and smiled.

The other man was right—the Godfrey's backyard which, unsurprisingly, was one of the biggest in the town, was a great place to unwind and relax. Roman knew that didn't come out there as often as he should. He had never been a morning person and, with his time-consuming job, he rarely had a spare moment during the week.

Peter, however, had always been good at helping him slow down and simply enjoy life.

That was one of the many reasons why Roman needed him.

Even though it was September and the leaves were beginning to turn, Peter had insisted on enjoying their breakfast outside. The servants had quickly obliged, bringing out a small table and a few lounge chairs from the shed to suit their needs. At first, Roman had thought that it was too much trouble for nothing but, now that they were gazing at the pristine gardens in the gentle autumn breeze, he knew it was worth it.

He hadn't slept well after their conversation the previous night and he needed time to gather his thoughts before starting the day. He had tossed and turned as he contemplated telling Nadia the truth…and Peter's loud snores had not made sleep any easier. He probably should have made Peter go to his own room but, after such a long time apart, Roman could not bring himself to do it.

Snoring aside, it was nice not to be alone and he had missed Peter's warmth.

Peter, as always, had slept like a log and was in much better spirits than the exhausted upir.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" The shorter man asked as he took a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it between his lips.

"I have a few—"

"No work. It's Saturday." Peter cut him off before he could finish. He knew him too well, and he knew that Roman often had trouble taking a break.

The arrogance and naiveté that had marked his first few years as head of the Godfrey corporation had long-ago faded—Roman now took his duties very seriously and it wasn't unusual to find him at the office seven days a week. As he matured, he had realized that the town depended on the employment provided by the white tower, and he had become increasingly determined to uphold J.R.'s legacy. Even though the man had not been his biological father, he still felt a great sense of duty towards him—despite what Olivia had said, J.R. had been a great man, and aspiring to be more like him was one way that Roman managed to fight off the darkness within.

Work gave him a sense of purpose.

Work distracted him from what he was.

And, perhaps most importantly, work distracted him from his hunger…

Nadia and Peter were the only two things that he allowed to steer him away from his responsibilities. Although he had emails to respond to and documents to approve, Roman knew that Peter was right. That could wait a day or two. Some things were more important.

"Fine." He conceded before reaching across the table and taking Peter's cigarette from the ashtray. "What did you have in mind?"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno, something fun. You know, family bonding time and all the shit." He began with a smile. "We both know that there are probably hard times ahead, especially for Nadia. I think the three of us need to go out and have a good time." The dark haired man paused and took a swig of his coffee. "How about the arcade?"

Roman snorted and shot his companion a skeptical look. "The arcade? Isn't Nadia a bit old for that?" He paused. "And won't we look a little ridiculous?" Roman finished, gesturing between himself and Peter.

The Hemlock Grove Arcade was notoriously juvenile and geared towards the pre-teen crowd. Although it had a certain nostalgic appeal, the thought of spending the day playing overpriced games to win sparkly pencils and candy necklaces seemed rather silly.

It was not something that Roman Godfrey would usually be caught doing.

Unfortunately, Peter did not look the least bit deterred.

"Aw, come on Godfrey." The werewolf teased, a sparkle of youthful enthusiasm in his blue eyes. "Even you have to unwind sometimes. And besides, you could probably still pass for 18 in the right outfit. You'll look way less out of place then me."

Roman knew that Peter was trying to be lighthearted but he could not hold back a scowl as the other man spoke.

The fact that Peter aged while Roman didn't used to be something that the two of them would joke about. They'd always liked to tease each other, and that was one of their many chosen targets.

But recently, Roman had found it to be a much more sensitive subject. As an upir, he aged much slower than a human and a few of his colleagues had commented on his youthful appearance lately.

He and Peter were both approaching forty—and while Peter looked it, Roman certainly did not.

Unlike his friend, he had no grey hairs, no laugh lines, no signs of wear and tear. He liked to think that he looked a bit older than he had when he had turned, perhaps twenty or twenty five, but he knew he was still far from normal. He had always relied on his height and his position to obscure his appearance but, recently, he had begun to wonder how long he could make that last.

Fancy suits and an air of confidence could only do so much. There would probably come a time when he would have to leave Hemlock Grove and reinvent himself like his mother had done countless times before.

He hated to compare himself to her. Hated that they had anything in common.

But he knew that he could not run from the truth forever.

Before Roman could respond, the sound of the sliding door distracted both men from their conversation.

He turned abruptly to see Nadia emerge onto the back patio, her hair tousled from sleep.

"Remy said you guys were having breakfast out here." She said before letting out a small yawn. "Mind if I join?"

"Of course not, sweetheart!" Peter replied, jumping up to pull her out a chair.

Roman watched their interaction carefully, looking for any sign of agitation on Peter's part. His words about her upirsim were still flowing through the concerned father's mind.

But, on the surface at least, everything seemed normal. Peter placed a kiss on top of her head, as he often did, and was grinning widely as the two started discussing some silly superhero movie that they were both looking forward to seeing.

To any onlooker, it would be impossible to know that there was anything dark brewing beneath the surface.

Nadia seemed so _normal_. So perfect.

And as she let out a gleeful laugh, Roman could not help but think about her mother.

Even though Nadia was a lot like Roman in many ways, there were times when he could see glimpses of Letha too. She had never known her mother, but her joy and compassion reminded him so much of his beautiful cousin.

He wished, more than anything, that he could tell her that. Tell her that she had inherited so much of the goodness and warmth that both he and Peter had admired in her mother.

But, unfortunately, he had decided long ago that Nadia could never know the truth about her conception. Reluctantly, Peter had agreed to keep his silence as well. They never spoke about Letha when Nadia was present, and he had told her as little as possible about her birth. She knew that her mother had died, and that he had loved her very much. That was all.

When she had begun asking more questions, around the age of six, Roman had used his mind control on her for the first and only time.

"_You will not ask me about your mother, and you will not seek answers on your own." _

It sickened him to deny her that knowledge, and to suppress Letha's memory, but he did not see any other way. Incest, rape…there was no way to explain it without traumatic results. He never wanted Nadia to feel ashamed of her own existence.

He loved her too much to ever let that happen.

Despite his troubled musings, Roman could not hold back a small smile as Nadia let out another laugh.

He loved seeing his daughter like this. So happy and content, her blue eyes shining with glee. Peter's influence was inside of her too, and he always brought out the most carefree aspects of her nature.

Roman was grateful for that.

As she reached out to grab another serving of bacon (undercooked, as it always was in their household), Roman resolved to take a leaf out of Peter's book and simply embrace the day.

He could not suppress the feeling that there were trials on the horizon, but all of that could wait at least a little while longer.

"Peter thinks we should go to the arcade today," he blurted out, surprised by his own sudden rush of enthusiasm. Much to his delight, another smile quickly spread across Nadia's face. "What do you say, princess?"

"I say, hell yes!" The girl replied before leaning over to give her dad a kiss on the cheek.

Roman grinned back and, for a moment, everything seemed right.

They were just a regular family, enjoying each other's company and looking forward to a fun-filled weekend.

_He could not have known, at the moment, how soon everything would come crashing down…_

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A/N- PLEASE REVIEW. It keeps me motivated.


	3. Chapter 3

"Please dad? I promise I'll be home by midnight."

Roman Godfrey averted his gaze up towards the evening sky. He knew that if he looked into his daughter's pleading blue eyes he would not be able to refuse her request. Try as he might, he had never been good at saying no to Nadia.

"I don't—" he began hesitantly before the teen cut him off in mid-sentence.

"Uncle Peter? You know I'll be fine, right? Can I go?"

An amused smirk flittered across Peter's face and he threw up his arms in submission. "Don't look at me," he said, quickly trying his best to appear serious as he turned towards her. "This is between you and your dad."

Nadia scowled as she looked back and forth between the two men, clearly frustrated that neither was immediately willing to grant her the permission she desired.

Roman couldn't blame her. Usually, he would have let her go hang out with her friends without much hesitation. She was a good kid, and she probably would be fine and arrive home before her curfew like she always did. But something about today felt different.

Perhaps it was because of the conversation that he and Peter had had last night—he could not help but be concerned about Peter's mention of her growing uperism and he had been watching her like a hawk all day to see if anything seemed out of the ordinary.

As planned, they'd spent several hours at the arcade that afternoon and he had done his best to put on a happy face, but he had been unable to ignore his worries. Every time Nadia frowned or looked distracted, he had wondered if she was feeling the hunger.

He'd wondered if she knew that something wasn't right.

It had, however, come as a comfort to see Peter and Nadia laughing and having a great time—and Roman had managed to momentarily slip out of overprotective father mode for a few moments here and there. Jokes, candy, and cheap plastic prizes couldn't alter his dreary reality, but he had been all too happy to let them help temporarily lift the darkness.

But that didn't change his sudden desire to have her as close as possible. Today, more than ever, he felt an overwhelming need to keep her safe and he didn't like the idea of letting her out of his sight.

"I made reservations at _Le Dobbre,_" he pointed out in an attempt to divert her attention. It was her favourite restaurant in town and the three were now heading down the sidewalk in that direction. "Are you sure you want to pass that up?

Nadia seemed to hesitate and for a second Roman thought he had won her over.

Unfortunately for him Nadia, like most teenagers, was not inclined to choose family time over hanging out with friends—even if gourmet French cuisine was involved.

At least she had the decency to look guilty as she began her rebuttal.

"I know," Nadia said, finally managing to catch her father's eyes. "I had a great day and I was looking forward to dinner, but Jenny managed to get two extra tickets to see Kyle's band play at the REX and I really, really, want to see the show. It's the last night that they're in town before they go off on tour and—"

"Okay, fine."

Roman relented with a sigh as he ran his fingers through his dark blonde hair. He could tell from her tone that Nadia did feel genuinely bad for missing out on dinner, and that she really wanted to see the band with her friends. Even though it went against every protective instinct that he had, she had bested him once again with her subtle pout and big sad eyes.

"Thanks, daddy!" Nadia exclaimed, instantly lighting up. Suddenly full of energy and excitement, she gave both he and Peter a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling out her phone and rapidly texting her friends. "I'll be home on time, I promise."

As the girl looked away, Peter shot Roman a look that clearly said _'You're a total sucker'_ and the taller man scowled in return. He knew he wouldn't be winning a father of the year award any time soon. It truly was miraculous that Nadia had not grown into an intolerably spoiled brat. There was no doubt that she often got what she wanted and knew how to press his buttons—but, thankfully, she used her powers sparingly and had inherited her fair share of Letha's compassion.

Roman knew he was extremely lucky.

"I've gotta go and meet Jen at her place- she says she has an awesome dress for me to borrow." She paused, shooting the two men a wide smile. "I'm sure you'll find a way to enjoy dinner without me. You deserve a proper date night anyway."

Nadia gave a dramatic wink, just in case they didn't catch her drift, and Peter laughed heartily.

"Run along, kiddo." He urged. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

The girl snorted, having heard about Peter's many adventures and knowing full well that he had gotten himself into all sorts of trouble over the years.

"Don't worry, I know better than that." She replied before giving a small wave. "Love you guys, see you soon!"

Despite himself, Roman could not suppress a smile as he watched his daughter excitedly take off down the street, her hair almost glowing in the fading sunlight. He couldn't ignore the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, or the sad realization that his little girl was growing up, but it was nice to see Nadia go off for a nice, normal, evening with friends. She deserved to have those experiences—especially if he could not protect her from the truth forever.

Maybe one day, she would know.

And maybe one day, heaven forbid, she would share his terrible burden.

But for now, at least, she was a blissfully normal girl who was unaware of the darkness that surrounded her.

Roman knew that was a precious luxury.

"She'll be fine, don't worry."

Peter's voice snapped him away from his thoughts and he turned to face his companion. He was glad to have the other man at his side, especially now. Peter had always been a bit more logical where Nadia was concerned, and Roman needed him to keep him from spinning off into a paranoid tizzy.

"Yeah, I know." Roman replied, not fully believing his own words. "I don't want to coddle her or keep her from her friends, but after what we talked about yesterday, it's harder than ever not to worry. What if something happens to her? I mean, if she were to accidently hurt herself, she could—"

"Don't think about that." Peter said, snaking his arm around Roman's back and turning him back towards the restaurant. "She's just a teenager who wants to spend some time with her friends. It's not a big deal."

"But she's not just a teenager. She—"

"Neither of us knows what the future will bring," Peter cut him off again, his blue eye's locking with Roman's. "But I refuse to stand here and watch you worry about theoretical worst-case scenarios all night. Nadia is right—we deserve a proper date night, and we have an exclusive reservation at the best restaurant in town. You can go home and be a pussy if you want, but I, for one, am going to go stuff myself with merlot and duck _confit _until my pants burst at the seams_." _

Roman chuckled, his nerves beginning to abate. "Classy, as always, Rumancek."

The shorter man shrugged. "We can't all be 'sophisticated' bores with sticks up our asses, Godfrey."

His tone was playful, and he managed to scoot out of the way before Roman was able to give him a good-natured swat.

"I thought you liked having things up your ass." The upir retorted, shooting his companion a suggestive look.

"You've got me there," Peter laughed before slowing his pace to let Roman catch up. "I think I like where this evening is heading."

Unable to suppress a smile, and thankful for the welcomed distraction, Roman intertwined his fingers with Peter's as they made their way towards the restaurant.

Perhaps a nice, normal, night was just what he needed after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nadia Godfrey's ears were still buzzing ten minutes after she left the REX, Hemlock Grove's most popular small concert venue.

Truth be told, the band had been a bit too loud and jarring for her taste (she had never really been a hard rock fan) but it had been a fun night, and well worth it to see Kyle Williamson strut around on stage. Sure, he could be cocky at times—and his band's recent success had done little to help in that regard— but, despite his flaws, Nadia had been unable to shake the crush she had had on him for years.

Even though he was two years older than her, they had been childhood friends and had always gotten on well. School had driven them apart somewhat, but they had often hung around with each other during the summers and Nadia liked to think that she got to see a side of him that many others didn't. When they were relaxing in her backyard or going for a walk in the nearby woods, he wasn't "Kyle the super-hot mega-talented aspiring rock star" that the girls at school whispered about—he was just the sweet guy from down the road who had a secret passion for comic books and all things supernatural.

Frankly, she had always liked that (slightly nerdy) side of him better. When he talked about Superman or werewolves with a spark of child-like enthusiasm, it was endearing and much more attractive than the persona he often put on in public.

But unfortunately, from Nadia's perspective, they'd always had more a big brother-little sister relationship and she doubted that that would ever change. While he had been happy to see her tonight, she had only been greeted with a friendly wave and a quick chat about the venue. Nothing out of the ordinary and certainly nothing that suggested she was more than a casual friend.

Nevertheless, she'd had a good time. And it had been a welcomed distraction from some of things that had been bothering her recently.

In the lively atmosphere of the club, she had barely thought about her weird hunger pangs or about her moment of weakness in her car yesterday. She had simply danced and cheered with friends and classmates, all of her worries momentarily forgotten.

Now that she had left, however, the lingering buzz in her ears was the only remaining distraction. Her stomach rumbled uncomfortably, and she could not stop her mind from drifting to events earlier in the day.

Although she had had a good time at the arcade with her family, she could not help but notice that her dad had been more down than usual that day. That was particularly odd, considering Peter's return and his jovial mood last night during dinner. At first she had wondered if he and Uncle Peter had been fighting, but the more she observed the more she felt as if his concern was directed towards her.

She had caught him starring at her with a troubled look in his eyes several times that afternoon—every time she noticed, he had quickly looked away or put on a smile. But she had not been able to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

It had felt as if he was examining her.

Looking for something…

And Nadia had no idea what that could be.

All she knew was that it was slightly unnerving and she wondered, briefly, if she should confront him about it when she got home. If there was something wrong with her, she deserved to know.

But she was also well aware that her father had never been one to open up.

Whenever he had seemed troubled, or let his composure slip for a moment or two, he had always told her that everything was fine.

'_Don't worry about it, princess.' _He would say with a smile that never reached his eyes.

Nadia doubted that routine would change anytime soon. But, perhaps, now that she was nearing adulthood there was a chance that he would be a little less protective.

But she didn't dare to get her hopes up…

"Hey!"

The sound of someone's voice abruptly snapped the girl away from her thoughts. For a second, she assumed it was someone she knew but, as she stopped and turned around, she found herself face to face with two unfamiliar men.

She hadn't seen them as she had crossed the street. They must have come around the corner when she wasn't looking, unnoticed by her ringing ears.

Knowing that it was too late to pretend she didn't notice them, Nadia took a few cautious steps back and attempted to smile politely.

Maybe they had mistaken her for someone else and would quickly be on their way.

"Sorry if I almost ran into you. I'm just in a hurry to get home."

She hoped that they couldn't sense the trepidation in her voice. They were both quite a bit older and bigger than her and, if their leering looks and unstable posture were any indication, she was willing to bet that they'd had a few too many drinks.

"No need to hurry off, sweetie." The shorter of the two began, his speech slightly slurred. "We just thought you might want to join us for a drink at the Jamestown. Pretty thing like you shouldn't be alone on a Saturday night."

Nadia took another step back, her heart now beating rapidly in her chest. There was no one else around, and she knew that she needed to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. She got a bad feeling off of these guys, and she certainly had no interest in joining them at the bar. Nothing good could possibly come of this situation and she suddenly wished that she had taken Jen up on her offer of a ride home.

The show had ended will before her curfew and she had stupidly decided that she would enjoy a peaceful walk on a warm fall evening.

Her dad would have a heart attack if he ever found out.

"Sorry, no thanks, I've gotta go." Nadia said tersely, hoping that they would get the hint without being provoked to harass her any further.

Unfortunately, she was not so lucky.

As she turned away, she felt a beefy hand grasp her arm roughly and she let out a yelp of surprise. She still didn't want to convey her fear or cause the situation to escalate, but there was no denying that she was beyond worried.

Before she could protest or pull away, the other drunk's eyes widened in recognition.

"Holy shit, Sam." He began, leaning in until she could smell the whisky on his breath. "It's the Godfrey bitch."

Her assailant tightened his grip, eyes narrowing as he examined her with his glazed eyes. Unable to contain herself any longer, Nadia attempted to yank her arm away, no longer caring if they saw her panic.

She had every damn right to panic now.

"Shit, you're right." The one called Sam replied. "She looks just like that creepy fucker." He paused, ignoring her struggle and leaning even closer. "I bet your daddy would pay a pretty penny to get you back, huh? Fucking rich fag."

It was no secret that her father was a controversial figure in town, and many disliked both his lifestyle and his family name. But no matter how many insults she heard over the years, they still filled her with a ball of rage.

People had no idea what they were talking about, and disgusting low-lives like this had no right to talk her family that way.

He was ten times the man they would ever be.

"Let me go." Nadia shouted in response, her eyes welling with panicked tears. She hated feeling so weak and helpless, but instinct was taking over. All she knew was that she needed to get the hell away from these jerks and she writhed with all her might.

But he was holding her with two arms now, and his friend had circled behind her to make escape even more unlikely.

"Let go of me, you bastards!" She shouted again, trying, and failing, to kick the one who was holding her.

"I hear he takes it up the ass from that psycho gypsy that murdered all those girls." The taller man commented, a smirk on his wrinkled face. "And people say Godfrey is the one who tore out Bill Kenman's throat. Don't think many people round here would mind a bit of revenge."

Nadia felt him grab her purse from her shoulder and he back away slightly as he stuck his greedy hands inside, no doubt hoping to find a wad of Godfrey cash.

With one of her attackers distracted, she attempted another kick, this time making contact with Sam's shin and causing him to loosen his grip.

Unfortunately, it wasn't quite enough.

"Fuckin' bitch." He spat, yanking her towards him, his face now inches from hers, his foul breath heavy on her neck. "You'll pay for that one."

Heart pounding with fear, Nadia looked up at him—her blue eyes meeting his grey.

"Don't touch me!" She shouted, knowing that her protests would probably be in vain. Unless someone came by to help, she was in a pretty bad predicament. "Get away from me!"

Much to her shock, the man suddenly let go of her arms and took a step back.

"What the hell…" she heard him mutter as his hands fell to his sides. He looked just as surprised as she did that he had pulled away.

His companion, who was still holding her purse, looked up in confusion. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I…I can't…I can't move." Sam stuttered. "I can't grab her. My arms aren't working."

Whipping around, Nadia turned to face the other assailant, "Back away, don't touch me." She demanded again, hoping beyond hope that her words would have some influence.

He dropped the purse and took a step towards the road.

"What the hell?" He whispered, his brow furrowing. "What did you do? Why is your nose bleeding?"

Still shocked, Nadia reached up towards her face. She was surprised to find that the man had been correct—there was a stream of warm blood flowing down her face, and she did her best to frantically wipe it away.

She was confused and terrified…and she realized suddenly that a searing pain had begun to spread through her head.

She had never felt anything quite like it and, although she knew that she needed to run away from the area of her attack, it was all she could do to steady herself against the nearest wall.

Passing out would have made things even worse…

It hurt so fucking bad.

As she attempted to regain her composure she could hear the sound of both men shouting incoherently but, thankfully, neither seemed able to move towards her. None of it made any sense, and she certainly did not feel safe. It was probably only a matter of time before they came at her again.

She needed to get the hell away.

She needed to get home.

With a shaky breath, Nadia pushed herself away from the wall and stumbled clumsily backwards towards the street. Before she could fall, however, she felt a pair of gentle arms around her, keeping her upright.

Her first thought, in the circumstances, was to panic. But when she looked up, she could see that it was not one of the men who had come up behind her. Instead it was a tall, elegant dark haired woman who was smiling down at her sympathetically.

"Nadia, darling." The woman whispered, gently turning her around and drawing her into a warm embrace. "Everything will be okay. I won't let anyone hurt my granddaughter…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N Sorry for the delay- I had a busy couple of weeks. I hope that was enjoyable. Things will start moving now that Nadia and Olivia have met.

Let me know what you think and if you want more!


	4. Chapter 4

Nadia had only been to Godfrey Manor twice in her life and she never would have predicted that she would one day be sitting in its spacious living room with her estranged grandmother.

Although the home where her father had grown up remained one of the largest and most luxurious in town they had never lived there and she had realized from a young age that he was not fond of the place. It had been closed up for years, visited only by the maintenance crews her dad paid to make sure that it didn't fall to pieces. Nadia had sometimes wondered why he bothered with the upkeep at all—any time she had asked about the house he tensed up and she assumed that it brought up too many bad memories. She supposed it made sense. His father had died there, after all and, from the way he spoke about his childhood, she figured that it had not been a happy one.

Roman rarely disclosed any details, and Nadia had never really known what had tainted his memories so badly. But the fact that he and Aunt Shelly rarely spoke about their mother gave her some indication.

Nadia had seen a handful of pictures of Olivia Godfrey before, and she'd always struck her as an imposing figure. Amazingly tall and statuesque, but with a certain coldness in her eyes that could make a chill run down your spine.

But, now that she had finally met the women, she could not help but wonder if the unpleasant images she had always accepted were simply a concoction of her imagination.

Yes, the woman was tall and striking, but she had saved her from those horrible men on the street and had offered the sort of warmth and comfort that one would expect of a grandmother. It made her wonder why her father had denounced her so completely.

Granted, much of the last hour had been a bit of a blur.

After stumbling away from her attackers, Nadia had fallen into her grandmother's arms and had watched with awe and confusion as Olivia had looked both in the eye and told them to leave town and never return.

The men had seemed shocked as their feet began to carry them away, seemingly against their wills.

It had been very bizarre, and Nadia probably would have thought more of it if she hadn't been in such a state of shock. She'd never been the victim of such a terrifying and violent harassment before and her head had still been throbbing from the pain brought about by her strange nosebleed.

She had been all too happy to let her grandmother comfort her—she may not have known the woman, but she did know who she was and any sense of familiarity came as a huge comfort after her ordeal.

Still feeling dazed, she had agreed to let Olivia take her back to the manor to get cleaned up.

"_You probably know that your father and I aren't on the best of terms."_ The older woman had explained. "_I don't think he'd appreciate me showing up on his doorstep—why don't we get you fixed up at the manor first? Then we can call him to come pick you up_."

It had seemed like a logical plan. Godfrey Manor was just down the road, and she did want to wipe the blood off of her face and regain her composure before she saw her dad. She wasn't going to lie to him about what had happened, but if he saw her like this, she wasn't sure if he'd ever agree to let her out of his sight again.

Plus, Nadia had reasoned as she'd followed Olivia towards her white car, this would be a precious opportunity to get to know her grandmother a bit. It had turned into a pretty terrible night, but perhaps this could be the silver lining.

So that was how she had come to find herself sitting on an elegant antique couch in the dusty mansion she had very few memories of.

As she sat, waiting for her grandmother to return from the kitchen, she could not help but note how different this place was from the house she had grown up in. Her dad had designed their home himself—it was so completely modern, with its top of the line stainless steel fixtures, angular furniture and priceless pieces of modern art. This place, however, felt like something from another century. A huge collection of (probably priceless antiques), ornate wooden carvings and imposing family portraits leering down from the papered walls…

She wondered if her dad had made their home the complete antithesis of the manor on purpose.

"I gave your father a call. There was no answer but I left a message letting him know where you are—hopefully he'll receive it soon."

Nadia turned towards her grandmother as she re-entered the room, a tray of tea and snacks in hand. The woman offered her a comforting smile before placing the tray down and seating herself on a nearby chair.

"In the meantime, I thought you might be a bit hungry or thirsty, so I did my best to prepare a treat for us to enjoy while we catch up."

Nadia smiled back. She could not say that she felt entirely at ease in the presence of what was, basically, a stranger, but she did know that she was much safer than she had been before and she could not deny that she was eager to get to know Olivia. They had talked a bit on their way up to the manor, and she now knew that the woman had spent much of the last fifteen years in Europe, but there was so much more that she wanted to ask.

Her father had always been so full of secrets, so tight lipped about his past—maybe this was her chance to finally get to know a bit more about where he had come from.

As if reading her thoughts, Olivia reached out and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm sure you must have all sorts of questions, darling." She began, sadness evident in her voice. "Please, feel free to ask me anything you'd like. I have dreamt of our reunion for so many years and I am so sorry that I could not be there for you sooner. It was not from lac of desire, I assure you."

With a nod, Nadia decided that she was comfortable enough to ask the question that had weighed most heavily on her mind for years.

She had always known that her grandmother was alive, but she had been given almost no information about her and had never really known why she was not part of her life.

"Okay then," the girl began before reaching for one of the teacups and taking a much needed sip of the warm liquid. "I guess the most obvious question is—why did you leave? Dad doesn't talk about you, so I always assumed something bad must have happened. But what was it?"

Olivia leaned back in her seat, her brown eyes flittering towards the floor. "That is a very complicated question, I am afraid." She began, letting out a small sigh. "The short answer is, your father told me to go. He said he never wanted to see me again. He felt I had betrayed him and Shelly."

The older woman drew a deep breath and she looked away, as if remembering something very distant and painful.

Although she still had no idea what had happened, Nadia felt a sudden pang of sympathy. She loved her father dearly, of course—he and Peter were the most important people in her life. But it was no secret that he could be harsh on the rare occasions when he lost his temper. She'd seen it happen a handful of times when he was stressed out at the office.

But cutting his own mother out of his life had always struck her as rather extreme, and there was no denying that it must have been difficult on Olivia.

"He never gave me a chance to explain," the dark haired woman continued, her voice thick with emotion. "Roman can be so difficult to reason with when he is in a state. I suppose I should take some of the blame for that—I always spoiled him and let him get his way. He had trouble dealing with things when they did not go how he wanted."

Nadia took another sip of tea. That was not quite the father she knew, but she supposed he may have been different in his younger days. He'd grown up with every material thing he could have wanted and Nadia knew that could easily lead to certain character traits. Thankfully, it seemed he had grown out of that phase.

"As much as it pained me, I wanted to respect his wishes" Olivia continued. "I figured that, if I left for a little while, he might cool down and listen to reason. But any time I tried to reach out during the years, I was immediately disappointed." She paused for a moment, and pulled an elegant lace handkerchief from her pocket to dab her reddening eyes. "No matter how far apart we were driven, you and your father have always remained so incredibly precious to me. He was the child I had always dreamt of, and you were such a special gift. I wish he would give me a chance to explain that. I know I've made my mistakes, but I've only ever wanted the best for all of us. You're the only family I have left and I love you both so very much. I never stopped thinking about you. Not for a second."

Nadia found herself nodding as her grandmother spoke. She had only known the woman for a very short time, but her words and emotions seemed earnest that she could not help but feel for her.

This woman had spent so many years alone, cut off from those she had loved.

Nadia hated the thought of it, no matter what she had done.

Nothing could have been bad enough to elicit this.

"Dad isn't like that anymore." She stated, hoping to offer a glimmer of hope. "Uncle Peter says he used to be way more hot-headed. Maybe when he gets here, we can talk to him together. Start making amends."

Her grandmother gave a sad smile. "You are very sweet." She observed, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "Just as beautiful as your father was at your age, but with a far gentler spirit."

Nadia shrugged, not quite sure how to respond.

"I doubt it will be that simple." Olivia continued with a deep sigh, "Although I am happy to try anything at this point. I realized recently that I simply couldn't stay away from you any longer—either of you. I decided to take the risk and come back, even if just for a little bit. But if I can stay here, if I can guide you, that would make me unbelievably happy."

The woman leaned back in her chair once more, her arm draped elegantly against the side.

For a moment, Nadia was struck by how amazingly picturesque she looked in the darkened living room. She looked far too young to be a grandmother, and her angular features and lean body were enhanced by her elegant white dress and jewels.

She almost didn't seem real, and Nadia probably would have wondered if she was a figment of her imagination if she had not been struck by her father in the same way at times.

Sometimes, when he lowered his facade, Roman could appear just as statuesque.

Just as superhuman.

"I imagine this must be a confusing time for you." Olivia stated, her eyes flittering towards the tray of tea and snacks she had prepared. "I wasn't sure how prepared your father was to guide you through this period, and I am glad that we have been given this opportunity to talk."

The woman paused and leaned forward towards the table. She lifted the silver lid that had been encasing one of the plates to reveal several strips of raw steak before returning to her previous position.

Nadia's brow immediately furrowed in confusion. This was certainly not a usual tea-time snack and she wondered how her grandmother possibly could have known about her freakishly unhealthy habit.

For the first time since her arrival at the manor, Nadia's heart began to pound rapidly in her chest.

"There is no need to look so concerned, my dear. You don't need to keep up pretenses around me."

The girl opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, unsure of what to say. She had no idea what was going on. And she was suddenly very tempted by the alluring smell of the meat on the table.

Her stomach rumbled uncomfortably and her heart continued to pound.

For a moment, there was silence and she could feel her grandmother's eyes examining her.

"Oh dear…don't tell me he hasn't told you." The older woman brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes suddenly wide with surprise. "Nothing? Nothing at all?"

Nadia had no idea what she was on about, so she shook her head. "Told me what?" she asked, her voice much quieter than before.

A second later, her grandmother was beside her on the couch, her long arm wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders. "Oh my darling, I am so sorry. I knew Roman did not take proper pride in his lineage, but I never imagined he would keep the truth from his own daughter. This is…simply deplorable."

The girl did not pull away from her embrace, but she could not ignore the well of confusion and trepidation growing inside of her.

Her grandmother wasn't making any sense, and she could not for the life of her guess what any of this had to do with her affinity for raw meat.

Did they all have some sort of genetic iron deficiency? Why was that such a big secret?

"I feel as if this should be a family discussion." The older woman began again, running a comforting hand through her hair. "It really should come from your father—it isn't my place. Here…"

Olivia picked up the plate of meat and brought it towards them.

"I am sorry for all of the confusion, I had no idea that you had been kept in the dark. Your father should be here soon and we can discuss everything together, I promise."

Nadia's head was still spinning, but the smell of the meat had suddenly provided a welcomed distraction. It was mere inches from her nose now, and she had been hungry all day.

Maybe things would make more sense on a full stomach…

"Please, Nadia, don't deny yourself. Never deny yourself." Her grandmother's silky voice cooed. "Never be ashamed of what we are."

She watched as Olivia daintily picked up one of the strips of steak and dropped it into her own mouth. She chewed it elegantly, with a grateful smile on her face.

Unable to resist any longer, Nadia followed suit—albeit far less gracefully than the older woman. Suddenly starving, she grabbed two and greedily devoured them, not caring that their juices were dripping down her chin.

"That's a good girl." Olivia said softly, still holding her close.

Still not full, Nadia was about to reach for more when a sudden bang and the sound of hurried footsteps broke her from her hungry trance.

She heard someone shout her name and, seconds later, she saw her father and Peter rush into the room, both looking extremely panicked.

"Ah, just on time, Roman darling." Olivia said with a smile.

"Get the fuck away from my daughter." Her father replied.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roman stood in the doorway to his childhood living room, his mind spinning with a dangerous mixture of hatred and fear.

He and Peter had been enjoying a relaxing, romantic, evening when they had noticed his phone buzzing in the pocket of his discarded jeans. It appeared to be a missed call from Nadia, but when he had listened to the voice mail, his blood had instantly run cold.

Although the call was from Nadia's phone, it had not been his daughter on the other end.

It had been Olivia.

"_Nadia had a bit of an unpleasant confrontation tonight,"_ she had said in her calm, silky voice. "_She is back at the manor with me, now. It would be lovely if you could come join us for a little family chat. I think it is long overdue."_

Roman, of course, was not fooled by her friendly pretenses. His mother was not supposed to be in town and, if she was, there was no doubt in his mind that she was up to no good.

The fact that she had managed to made contact with Nadia filled him with instant panic. There was no telling what she would do or say to her before he managed to get there. The mere thought of her conversing with his daughter made him sick.

So they had rushed over as fast as they could, not caring about speed limits or personal safety.

The only thought on his mind was rescuing Nadia from Olivia's clutches, and he knew that Peter felt the same.

No good could come of this.

He only hoped that he wasn't already too late…

Perhaps it had been a bit dramatic, but he had used his upir strength to knock down the front door and they had run towards the only room in the house that seemed to be lit.

Thankfully, Nadia had been there.

But while she looked generally unharmed, he was not pleased to see Olivia's arm wrapped around her protectively, as if she had some claim over the girl.

He surveyed the room frantically as he attempted to catch his breath—and his heart sank as his gaze fell upon the plate of uncooked meat on the table…and the remains of something red dripping down the sides Nadia's face.

_No, no, no, no, no… _

Not his baby girl.

Not so soon.

The sight made him want to vomit.

"Ah, just on time, Roman darling." Olivia said with a sickeningly sweet smile. There was no doubt in his mind that she was trying to win Nadia over with her patented _"good mother"_ act.

It was all bullshit, and he wished that he'd had the foresight to warn Nadia about her.

It had been naive, he supposed, but he had truly thought he had rid the town of her for good.

He had been a fool.

He should have known that no one, not even him, could keep Olivia from getting what she wanted.

"Get the fuck away from my daughter." He replied, his body pulsing with rage.

If Nadia had not been in the room, he would have said something much worse—and he probably wouldn't have been able to stop himself from tearing his mother's throat out. He had to admit, the woman had played her cards right. She had probably known that Roman would not hurt her or display his true nature in front of his daughter, and was cleverly using Nadia as a human shield.

He had to get Nadia out of there before he could deal with her properly.

"Nadia, I don't know what she's told you, but she is a dangerous woman. You need to get away from her." Roman did not want to aggravate the situation by moving towards them, but he slowly reached his hand out towards his daughter, hoping that she would be convinced by his words.

Nadia hesitated for a second, wiping her chin as she looked back and forth between her father and grandmother.

"She isn't dangerous, dad." The girl replied, her brow furrowed in confusion. "She's family, and she just wants to talk. She says she's sorry about whatever happened in the past, and she wants to make amends, she—"

"Nadia, she can't be trusted." Roman cut in, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he listened to his daughter's words. Clearly, Olivia had put on another of her Oscar-worthy performances.

"He's right." Peter agreed, attempting to offer some support. "You can't trust a word she says."

Roman couldn't really blame Nadia for wanting to hear her out—the girl had always wanted to know more of her family, and it had pained him to deny her that. But she had no idea who, or what, she was really dealing with.

It was partially his fault that it had come to this.

"Nadia, please." He tried again, taking a cautious step towards them. "Come with me. We can talk about things at home. We need to get out of here."

For a second, he thought he had made a breakthrough. Nadia rose from her seat—but, instead of coming over to his side of the room, she threw up her arms in frustration and backed further away.

"Talk?" She began, the anger apparent in her voice. "Since when do any of us actually talk?"

Roman froze, not sure how to respond to this unexpected tirade.

"I love you, dad, but I'm tired of being treated like a little kid. I don't need you to protect me all the time. You're always telling me not to ask questions. I feel like I don't know anything—you never tell me anything about your past, anything about your family, anything about my mother! You shut down every time I want to discuss something, and now, you won't even sit down and talk things over with your own mother—who, apparently, is 'dangerous and untrustworthy' for reasons that you probably aren't willing to disclose."

"Nadia, I…I—" Roman stuttered, unable to gather his thoughts. She was right, of course—he had never shared much and often avoided her questions. But he had no idea that she felt this way.

But, as much as it pained him to see her welling with anger, he wasn't sure that he would have done anything differently—or if he could change now.

He'd rather have her angry at him than know the awful truth.

She deserved a normal life, she didn't deserve his curse, he couldn't take that away from her.

"Nadia, I have my reasons. You have to trust me. I've only ever wanted what's best for you."

As he spoke, Olivia let out a small scoff. His eyes snapped towards his mother, his sadness once again overcome with anger.

"You think this is what's best for her?" The woman asked, raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Hiding the truth from her? Denying her heritage? Letting her suffer in confusion as the changes take hold?"

Roman felt the rage bubbling inside of him. He could hardly believe the hypocrisy of her words, and took two big strides towards her, no longer caring if his stance appeared aggressive.

"How dare you spew that bullshit, Olivia." He spat. "You know what you did to me. How you lied and manipulated me. You have no right to tell me how to raise my daughter after what you did."

"I'm sorry, darling—I assumed that you would have learned from my mistakes. You know that I regretted keeping the truth from you, and I was so sorry that it angered you. I thought you would be excited—proud."

Her voice was calm and soothing, as always. But Roman was not swayed. "Bullshit!" He replied, doing his best to tower over her with his few extra inches. "I have shielded her from things that she doesn't have to know, because I am never going to let her become what you are."

"What _we_ are, Roman." Olivia shot back, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. "God, how many times do I have to say it before you'll accept it. It is getting tiresome."

"She will not be burdened with_ your_ curse." He replied, his green eyes deadly and piercing.

Much to his disgust, his mother gave a lighthearted laugh. "She was born with the caul. You can't fight destiny." She said, waving a hand carelessly. "It is only a matter of time."

Roman opened his mouth to respond but, before he did, the sound of another voice reminded him that they were not alone in the room.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

It was Nadia. At some point during the verbal sparring she had backed all the way into the corner and was watching her father and grandmother with a mixture of confusion and worry in her eyes.

"Secrets? Truth? Changes?" She pressed, looking towards him with an expression that made him want to protect her from all of the evils in the world. "Someone, please, tell me what is going on!"

Unfortunately, Olivia spoke first. "That is exactly what I want too, darling." She said, plastering on a comforting smile. "I think it is time that your father stopped hiding things from you. You deserve to know."

Before Roman had a chance to respond, his mother snapped her head towards him and her brown eyes locked with his green.

"Show her what we are, Roman." She said, her voice commanding and clear. "Show her what _you_ are."

For a second, Roman wasn't sure what was happening. He had not been around another upir in nearly two decades, and it took him a moment to recognize the strange feeling that suddenly washed over him.

But all too soon, he realized what Olivia had done.

He managed to gasp out a raspy "no" before he stumbled back and clasped his hand over his mouth.

His heart raced in panic as he felt his razor-sharp fangs descend.

He couldn't will them away.

He couldn't hide anymore...

The hunger that was always with him instantly intensified and, against his will, he snapped his attention towards the most human smelling person in the room.

"Peter, run. Out." He gasped, thankful that his back was now towards his daughter.

She didn't need to see him like this.

She couldn't.

"Dad? What's happening, are you okay?"

He needed to get out.

Roman was vaguely aware that Peter had listened to his desperate command and he regained a slight bit of composure now that the scent of fresh human blood had gotten further away.

Unfortunately, this little bit of control was not enough.

"Show her."

His mother's sickening voice echoed through his head. It took all of his strength not to turn around.

"Show her."

He heard Olivia approach, and his heightened sense of smell told him that she had not come empty handed.

His head pounded and his stomach roared as he smelt the thing his monstrous body desired most.

"You're beautiful, Roman." His mother whispered, leaning close until he felt her breath on his neck. "Don't be ashamed."

She held out a crystal goblet of red liquid and the world around him fell out of focus. His mind cleared of all thoughts but one.

Turning abruptly, he grabbed the glass and downed every last drop of gloriously sweet blood. For a moment, there was nothing but pure bliss. The liquid was warm, and it filled him with immense pleasure as it slid down his throat.

Finally satisfied, the upir's head lolled back and his eyes slid closed ecstasy.

"…dad?"

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A/N—please tell me what you think! I hope that was enjoyable!


	5. Chapter 5

"…dad?"

Nadia stepped back until her body was pressed against the nearest wall. A wave of nausea had washed over and she could feel herself shaking from head to toe.

Never, in her wildest nightmares, had she ever expected a scene like this to unfold.

Her father—the refined and formidable CEO of Godfrey Industries. The man who had raised her, loved her unconditionally, held her tenderly when she was hurt or scared. Was now standing in front of her with blood dripping from his deadly fangs.

She wanted it all to be a bad dream, and the logical side of her brain told her that this was impossible.

People didn't turn into ravenous beasts and drink blood.

This was the stuff of fantasy novels and horror films. Not real life.

Her dad couldn't possibly be…

"Nadia, please."

It appeared that her father had now snapped out of his blood-crazed trace and he took a cautious step towards her, his arm outstretched. The goblet he had been holding clattered to the floor, spraying the remaining flecks of red liquid onto the antique Persian rug.

He reached out, perhaps hoping to offer a reassuring embrace, but Nadia instinctively jumped back.

"No!" She yelped, unable and unwilling to let the figure before her come any closer. A minute ago, this individual had been her father—but her frantic mind no longer knew what to think.

Her mind was telling her to flee.

Her mind was telling her that she was not safe around this creature.

As she looked up, Nadia he could see the pain and hurt in his eyes and, for a second, she caught a glimpse of the man she had always known. But, all too soon, her gaze fell back towards his bloodstained mouth. His unnaturally sharp incisors.

Nadia wanted to scream. And run. She would have rather been anywhere else than face her father like _this_. But her body remained paralyzed in shock and she found herself unable to flee.

So instead, she choked out the one thing that had been pulsing in her mind since this horrific scene had begun.

"_Vampire_."

Her voice was weak, barely a whisper, but she could tell instantly that he had heard her. Roman flinched, taking a step back and bringing his hand to his mouth once again, as if suddenly remembering what he had put on display. Frantically, he wiped the blood from his chin but, before he could respond to her accusation, the third figure in the room spoke.

"That is such a vulgar, anglicized word," her grandmother scoffed, tossing her sleek dark hair over her shoulder.

After offering her son the goblet, Olivia had made her way back to her chair to watch things play out. As she glanced in the older woman's direction, Nadia noticed that she did not look at all phased by what had just happened.

If anything, she looked bored, as if this was a tiring game that she hoped would end soon.

"We much prefer the term _upir_." She began again, offering her granddaughter a smile. "That is what we are called in the old country—and I've always felt it was a much more dignified word, free of all the silly pop-culture references humans have conjured up over the years."

Nadia had no idea how to respond.

Her grandmother was basically confirming the unbelievable truth—and her tone, amazingly, suggested that she did not see it as a big deal. She spoke as if she was explaining something as blasé as the weather or a recipe for chicken soup.

"There is no need to look so afraid, my darling." She continued, rising from her seat and walking towards Nadia. "As I have been trying to explain to your father for decades, being upir is not a curse. It is a wonderful gift. Strength, beauty, immortality. Most humans would trade anything for what we have been blessed with."

"We?" Nadia managed to squeak, not feeling any reassurance from Olivia's words. A part of her already knew that it was true, that she was part of this dark supernatural mess as well, but she still needed a harsh confirmation before she could truly begin to accept it.

Her father had turned into a bloodthirsty vampire in front of her eyes, and her grandmother was standing there talking about it like it was something they should all be grateful for.

Nadia could not possibly fathom how any of this was good. Drinking human blood…killing people…and god knows what else. She wanted no part of it.

"Stop, Olivia." Her father shouted. He still looked as if he was struggling to regain his composure but, apparently, he had recovered enough to speak once more. "Don't you dare say another word."

The blood had been wiped from his face, and his teeth had returned to normal, but there was still a terrifyingly deadly look in his eyes as he spoke.

Roman Godfrey was clearly angry, and probably dangerous.

"You had _no right_ to come here and do this to us, you vindictive bitch." He growled, walking towards his mother threateningly. "I don't know what goes on in your twisted head, but we do not need your guidance and we have no interest in adopting your lifestyle. You have done more than enough damage already. Get the fuck out of town and leave my daughter alone. She isn't part of this and she never will be."

Although her façade faltered for a second, Olivia quickly squared her shoulders and replied. "Oh Roman," She began, waving her elegant hand nonchalantly. "You won't be able to play your little human game forever. Nadia is already feeling the hunger— it is only a matter of time before she progresses." Olivia paused and gave her son the once over. "And look at you—just as young and handsome as the day you turned. People must be noticing by now. You'll have to move on soon enough. Your little pet wolf will die, Shelly will be gone. Only the three of us will be left and I, for one, think we will be stronger together. I have residences all across Europe—we could enjoy life, together. Be who we were meant to be. Is that really so terrible?"

"Fuck you, Olivia." He spat back, venom in his tone. "Nadia and I will never—"

"Enough!" Nadia was surprised by the sudden strength of her voice. Both her father and grandmother froze in place as it echoed through the room, their bickering ending in mid-sentence.

The nausea and confusion had not abated and Nadia knew that she could not stand by silently as the others dredged up decades of bitterness.

She needed answers. And, most of all, she needed someone to tell her that everything would be okay.

"This is absolutely insane." The girl began, looking back and forth between the older Godfrey's. "Can you both shut up for ten seconds and tell me what the _hell_ is going on? You're talking about me as if I'm not here!"

"I am sorry, darling." Olivia began calmly, stepping in front of her son. "Why don't we all take a seat? You're right, you deserve an explanation."

"I said no, Olivia." Her father cut in, his voice still seething with rage. "Nadia is not part of this, I will not let you drag her into your twisted little world! She doesn't need to know!"

"Are you fucking serious right now!?"

Nadia was not usually one to swear, but her usual manners had been all but forgotten in the circumstances.

A sudden wave of anger had washed over her as her father spoke and she found herself unable to keep it bottled up. She could not believe that, despite it all, he was still treating her like a child.

Still trying to shield her from what was going on.

Everything she thought she had known had just come crashing down around her and he still had the gall to claim that she _didn't deserve an explanation_.

A part of her already knew that life would never be the same again and there was no way in hell that she was going to let him attempt to maintain the status quo.

"You are a fucking _vampire_, dad!" She continued, turning towards her father, her eyes flashing with fury. "A vampire! You have fangs and you drank human blood like some sort of…monster!"

Roman's mouth opened in shock and she could instantly see that she had hurt him, but she was too riled up to stop.

"And, apparently, sooner or later, I'm going to become one too! But as shitty as all of that is, the worst part is that you knew. You fucking knew! And you've been lying to me my entire life. I feel like I don't even know you anymore! The dad I thought I knew would never do something like this."

"Nadia, it's not like that. I just—"

"I can't deal with this right now," she cut him off in mid-sentence. She was in no state to hear his stammered defence or shaky apologies. As far as she was concerned, he had messed up. Colossally. And there was nothing he could say right now to make her change her mind.

"I'm leaving. Don't you _dare_ follow me."

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As soon as his daughter fled the room Roman Godfrey sank to his knees.

It had taken every fibre of his strength to stay standing during the past few minutes and, now that she was gone, he found the last of his willpower fading.

Breathing heavily, he placed his head in his hands, finally allowing a wave of hot tears to escape.

He didn't care how weak he looked at that moment.

How pathetic.

It felt as if his life—the life he had worked so hard to build and protect for sixteen years— was over. Deep down, part of him had always known that this day would come. That Nadia would inevitably find out and reject him for what he was. But he had done everything in his power to prevent that from happening and had always hoped that, somehow, he could hide the awful truth from his little girl.

But the time for hope had now passed.

Nadia knew.

Nadia had seen.

And he had recognized the unmistakable fear in her eyes as she had gazed upon his true form.

She had called him a monster and, as much as the word had stung, he knew that he could no longer deny it.

She was right—that was what he was.

He couldn't blame her for running away.

He had wanted to run away from himself ever since he had turned…

"Don't worry, darling. She just needs a bit of time to let it all sink in. She's a smart girl, she'll come around."

Roman heard his mother's vile voice and he jerked away as she attempted to place a "comforting" hand on his back.

He had learned long ago never to accept any sort of comfort from Olivia—she only offered support when she thought there was something for her to gain.

"Don't touch me." The man hissed, his anger propelling him back to his feet. He turned to face her, eyes still red with emotion.

"This is all your fault, you malicious harpy!" He spat, stepping towards her aggressively. "We were fine until you slithered back here and fucked everything up. Is this all one big game to you, Olivia? Does ruining our lives amuse you in some perverse way?"

"Dear god, Roman. Must we always go in circles?" The older woman retorted, refusing to back down. "I know you don't believe me, but I just want to be with my family. I don't see how you can fault me for that."

Roman scoffed. He felt as if he had heard these hollow lines before.

Undeterred, Olivia continued. "I know you think I'm a heartless bitch, Roman, but I'm not. I love. I have feelings. And I have felt alone my entire life." She began, her eyes pleading for compassion. "I've always known that the only way to quell that horrible emptiness was to build a family that I could spend the centuries with—and when I had you, I thought that my suffering was finally over. I know I messed things up between us, and I apologize for not handing things better. But I am your mother, and I think I deserve a second chance."

"You don't deserve shit." Roman shot back.

He had always hated her sob stories and, although a small part of him wanted to believe her words, he had been burned too many times to see this display as more than the same old routine.

"You manipulate and lie and murder." He continued. "You deserve to be alone."

Much to his annoyance, Olivia simply rolled her eyes at his retort. As always, she remained obstinately calm and dismissive.

"You've done all of those things too, darling. We are upir. It is almost inevitable." She reminded him, raising an eyebrow. "And it looks like you have managed to repeat many of my mistakes with your own child."

Although the verbal sparring with his mother had temporarily taken some of his attention away from the situation with Nadia, her words brought everything harshly back into focus.

As much as he hated to admit it, Roman knew that she had a point. When driven by his monstrous rage and hunger, he had committed his share of crimes over the years. He regretted them all, and hated himself for it, but that didn't change what he had done. And, despite the fact that he had never forgiven his mother for lying to him about who he was, he had done the exact same thing to Nadia.

No wonder his daughter was so overwhelmed.

So scared and angry.

He had kept a massive, life altering, secret from her—and he had attempted to maintain his denial, even after the truth had been put on full display.

He knew how it felt to have your world shatter to pieces.

And he knew how hard it would be to recover.

"You need to stop living in denial." His mother stated, snapping him away from his thoughts once again. "Nadia was attacked by a couple of thugs tonight, you know."

"What!?" Roman's head snapped towards her, the alarm apparent on his face. In all of the chaos, he had not yet asked how Olivia and Nadia had come across each other that night and, apparently, the explanation was not a pleasant one.

"Don't worry, I found her before they could truly hurt her. But it was a close call." Olivia paused, looking over at her son pointedly. "She managed to use her powers against them, actually. As I approached, I saw her look them in the eyes and tell them to back away."

Roman felt his stomach sink. "No," he murmured softly, his eyes wide.

As far as he knew, Nadia had never used mind control before—and, if Olivia was telling the truth, then she was probably right about Nadia's growing upirsim.

His powers had begun to manifest at her age as well. And they, and his hunger, had only grown stronger as he neared the end of his teens.

The thought of Nadia going through the same thing made him sick.

"No?" Olivia began again, crossing her arms across her chest. "You should be grateful that she has powers. It is your denial that is dangerous. If she had known the truth, known what she is capable of, she could have gotten away sooner. Protected herself. When she becomes full upir, she—"

"NO!"

Roman cut her off with a furious roar. There was no way in hell that he was going to let her finish that thought and something inside of him had snapped as he spoke.

He was already filled with a plethora of treacherous emotions, and this final statement was simply too much.

Before he fully knew what was happening, he had lunged towards Olivia, lifting her up by the neck with one unnaturally strong motion.

"She may know the truth, now. But she will never. NEVER, be like us." He growled dangerously, his deadly fangs bared, inches from his mother's ageless face.

Despite his display of superhuman strength and aggression, Olivia was not intimidated. With a swift motion that reminded him of her own impressive power, she broke free of his grasp and sent him careening down to the floor.

"Foolish boy." She cooed, towering over him with a sickening grin. "I always win."

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A/N- Let me know what you think! More of Nadia's reaction soon, and I promise that Peter will be featured!

Special thanks to angelsinstead for the lovely reviews!


	6. Chapter 6

Nadia didn't stop to take a breath until she had reached the end of the manor's long driveway.

She had no idea where she was going, or what she was supposed to do now, but simply getting away from the living room and her so-called family had calmed her nerves somewhat.

She was, of course, still overwhelmed. Still shocked and appalled by what had just happened. But something about the cold evening air gave her comfort. It felt good to revel in the fall breeze, and she was happy to let it wash over her and bring her back down to reality. Everything out here seemed so tranquil.

So normal.

It could not have been a starker contrast to what was going on indoors.

"Nadia?"

All too soon, her peaceful moment was interrupted. For a second, Nadia feared that her father had followed her outside after all. But, as she turned around, she was relieved to see that Peter was approaching.

In all of the chaos he had fled the room, and she had nearly forgotten that he had arrived with her dad in the first place.

Relived to see a familiar face that could, perhaps, help her get away from the madness, Nadia took a step forward and burrowed her face in his chest. She felt him wrap his arms around her and place a gentle kiss on top of her head, as had had so many times throughout her childhood. But, unfortunately, even Peter's comforting embrace was not enough to offer her relief on a night like this.

She was pretty sure that nothing could change how she felt right now.

Not after that…

For the first time since everything had started, Nadia allowed a sob to escape.

She had been too shocked to let her emotions overwhelm her before, but she could no longer keep it bottled up. It felt like the world had gone to shit, and she knew that the happiness and safety of her youth was now gone forever.

She had seen the truth, and the truth was a nightmare.

"Did you see what happened?" Nadia choked, finally looking up to meet Peter's gaze.

He looked worried, and anxious, and she could already tell that he had seen enough to understand her distress.

She couldn't remember exactly when Peter had left the room—but she could vaguely recall her father shouting at him to run just as he had begun to transform.

"Did you know that he's a…" she trailed off, unable to say the cursed word. "Did you know what he is?"

Peter nodded slowly.

"Yes. I knew."

Nadia felt a small rush of anger flow through her as Peter gave his pseudo-daughter a sympathetic look. She had suspected that he knew—he had known her father since they had been in high school and, now that she thought about it in light of the new revelations, she could recall many times when they had halted their whispered conversations as she entered a room.

In the back of her mind, she had always known that he was hiding something.

But, as much as it bothered her to find out that both of the people she loved most in the world had been keeping a huge secret from her, she knew that it wasn't Peter's secret to tell and she could not stand the thought of pushing him away right now.

She needed this.

She needed someone.

"You should have told me." Nadia said, attempting to keep her anger in check. She took a small step back and Peter let his arms fall back to his sides.

"I know," He agreed, running a hand through his shaggy dark hair. "We discussed it long and hard, I promise you. I worried that if you didn't know, then something like this might happen—something explosive and traumatic. In my experience, these sorts of things never stay buried forever. But ultimately, it was up to your dad. It was his secret, and you are his daughter. He thought that it would be safer to protect you from the truth."

Nadia let out a loud sigh before wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks. It was somewhat reassuring to know that the decision to shield her had not been taken lightly, but it did not change the cruel sting of betrayal that she now felt.

Perhaps they both had good intentions, but burying something this major seemed deceitful and wrong.

"There are people out there who want to eradicate your kind." Peter continued, his eyes pleading for understanding.

Nadia could not help but flinch at his choice of words.

_Your kind. _

He seemed too think that she was one of them too. That she was like her father. The thought of becoming…that…made her feel sick, but Peter's words snapped her away from that heart wrenching thought before it could progress too far.

"We encountered some of those people when you were young. They…" He hesitated and the girl could see his fingers twitching nervously in his pockets. "They targeted you when you were a baby and, after that ordeal, I could see that Roman had a point. If you didn't know, and if we could hide the truth, then maybe you could go undetected. And maybe we could keep you from ever really becoming part of that messed-up world."

"I'm not part of it." Nadia cut in, her words rushing out of her before she had a chance to think over her response.

"I'm not a…whatever they called it." She continued, not as convinced by her own statement as she would have liked. "I don't have fangs or drink blood. I'm not like them. And if I don't get bitten or something, then I never will be…right?"

Peter gave her a sad smile before reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Her heart rate increased as she watched him search for the right thing to say. She didn't want him to tell her that she was wrong, but she was pretty certain that they both knew that she was.

Peter had all but said it already. And her father and grandmother had said it in the heat of their argument.

_Your kind. _

_Like us. _

"It's complicated, Nadia." Peter began with a soft sigh. "I know a lot of lore says that vampires are created when bitten by another. But it's not really like that."

Nadia felt her stomach do an uncomfortable flip. It took all of her willpower and self-control not to pull away.

"Upirism is something that a person is born with." He continued. "Not all children born to an upir parent inherit that trait, but some do. Like your father, you were born with a caul, so we always knew that you had the gene."

Nadia gave a shaky nod. He was basically just affirming much of what she had already pieced together. But hearing someone say it out loud provided both clarity and apprehension.

It wasn't the answer she had wanted, but at least he was willing to level with her. That was refreshing.

"When will I…change?" Nadia managed to squeak. Her throat had suddenly run dry and the words did not come easily. "I've been craving raw meat recently, and I think I did some sort of mind-control thing earlier tonight. Does that mean something is going to happen soon?"

It felt as if everything was falling into place. The weird cravings, the strange feelings, what she had done to make those men leave her alone—it all seemed to make sense now.

Maybe this was how it was supposed to start.

It was probably only a matter of time before she passed the point of no return.

Peter looked towards her, attempting to give a small reassuring smile. "Changing isn't inevitable." He began. Nadia felt a wave of relief wash over her.

This was the first thing that had given her a glimmer of hope in an otherwise terrible ordeal.

Maybe she wasn't so doomed after all.

"Even if some of your powers manifest, you won't necessarily become a full upir. For that to happen you have to…" He paused, as if contemplating whether or not to continue. "You have to die, a victim of your own hand."

Silence fell as Nadia attempted to contemplate what he had said.

If she understood him correctly, if she didn't harm herself, she could stay human. And since she had no intention of taking her own life, this seemed like a solution to her worries.

The girl let out a deep breath, feeling better than she had since the drama had begun.

"I would never do that." She said firmly, looking up to meet Peter's eyes. "I'm going to be okay."

The relief flooded through her body, and she allowed herself to revel in it for a moment.

This didn't change what had just happened, or the betrayal she felt, but it was as if a huge weight had been lifted.

Her family may have been supremely fucked up, but she did not have to be fully part of the madness.

"You'll never be able to get rid of the powers you already have." Peter began again. "But if you stay safe, your cravings won't get much worse and you'll never actually transform. You can live a fairly normal life. That's part of the reason why your dad didn't want you to know. It doesn't have to be your fate, and I know he'd do anything to prevent you from turning."

"So does that mean that dad—"Nadia began a sudden (and rather disturbing) thought popping into her head.

"Took his own life?" Peter finished grimly, completing her sentence. "Yes. Olivia tricked him into it, and he didn't know what he was at the time."

She shuddered involuntarily. She suspected that there was more of a story there, but it was disturbing enough to think that her grandmother had pushed her own son into that sort of situation.

And that her father was technically dead.

"If he had known what would happen to him, he never would have done it." Peter said softly, glancing back towards the imposing house. "He has always hated being upir, and he tried everything he could to become human again. He even underwent extremely painful gene therapy with Doctor Pryce. Three times. But it didn't work. The treatments made him human for two or three days, but he always changed back. Once you become upir, it is permanent. But we will do everything in our power to make sure it never happens to you."

Nadia nodded. It was nice to hear Peter's conviction, and she knew that he was right—neither he nor her father would ever stop protecting her.

She also felt a pang of sympathy for her father as Peter spoke. She could tell from Roman's interactions with his mother that he was not proud of what he was, and Peter had just confirmed that. As mad as she still was, she hated the thought of her dad suffering like that.

"I know you're angry with him." Peter stated, as if reading her thoughts. "But you have to know that he only ever wanted to protect you. He's always felt guilty for passing down his curse and I'm sure he is just as upset as you are that things have played out this way."

Nadia opened her mouth to respond but, as if on cue, the sound of another voice broke the two away from their conversation.

"Nadia."

She turned to see her father in the dimly lit doorway of the manor. He was far away, and she could not see his face clearly, but even the sight of his silhouette made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

As he stood there calling out to her—tall, elegant, imposing— she could not help but be struck by his otherworldliness. On the one hand, she clearly recognized him as her father but, on the other, it felt as if she was seeing him for the first time.

This wasn't Roman Godfrey—the dad, the businessman, the bad chef, the man who loved rollercoasters and days at the seaside.

Instead, Nadia was overwhelmed by the sight of a superhuman being. An upir. A deadly hunter, frozen in time, just as striking and dangerous as he had been since the day he had died.

"I can't be here right now." Nadia breathed, turning to Peter frantically.

She had heard Peter's words, knew that he believed her father meant well, but even if it was true she could not handle seeing him tonight.

Maybe forgiveness would come one day, but now was too soon.

Unfortunately, Peter was not as understanding as she had hoped. "Don't go, Nadia." He pleaded, gently taking her hand. "Your father loves you, so much. And we should all talk. There is still more you need to know."

"I can't," Nadia repeated, her panic rising as she saw her father coming closer.

He would be there in less than a minute, she had to get away.

Desperate, she turned back towards Peter and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Give me your keys." She said, her gaze unwavering.

She could see him attempt to resist but, thankfully, he was not strong enough to combat her powers.

"Don't do this."

Despite his plea, Peter reached his hand into his pocket and handed her the desired item.

"I'll be safe, I promise. I'll text you tomorrow morning."

Without a moment to spare, Nadia took off down the street towards the parked car. She could feel the wave of pain in her head, and she wiped a fresh stream of blood from beneath her nose, but she refused to pause.

The girl could hear Peter and her father pleading with her as she jumped into the vehicle, but their words barely registered.

She wanted more answers, but she wasn't ready to face him. Thankfully, there was still one more place she could go.

Nadia hoped that her Aunt Shelly would understand.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"What the hell, Peter? Why would you let her take your keys?"

Roman had reached the end of the driveway just as Nadia took off down the road in Peter's beat-up old Ford. Although he wasn't sure exactly what Peter and his daughter had talked about in his absence, he assumed that Peter would be on his side. Sure, they hadn't always agreed on how to handle the 'big secret,' but Peter would never tell Nadia to run away from him. He knew how much he loved her, and he knew how important it was that they all make amends.

"I didn't want to give them to her. I told her to stay." Peter replied, running his hand through his hair nervously. "She did the upir mind trick. I couldn't say no."

Roman felt a pang in the pit of his stomach as he realized what had happened. Apparently, Nadia was getting better at controlling her powers—a fact he found both reassuring and heart wrenching.

He hated the thought of her having powers at all. But, if she did, it was better that she understood what was happening.

"God damnit." He said softly, steadying himself against the tall gate which protected the historic Godfrey property.

He had no idea what to do next. She could be heading anywhere and the thought filled him with panic.

"I don't think she's going far." Peter said reassuringly, taking a step towards his best friend. "Look, I know this is hard on you. It's hard on me too. But she just said that she needs a bit more time to let things sink in. She said she'll text me tomorrow morning. I think we should give her some time alone, as much as we may not want to."

That came as some relief, and Roman finally let out a breath. He absolutely hated not knowing where she was, not being able to keep her safe. But knowing that they would hear from her in a few hours was a much-needed comfort.

He knew he wouldn't get a wink of sleep that night, but it hardly seemed important in the circumstances.

"Don't beat yourself up about this." Peter began again, looping a reassuring arm around Roman's back. "I know you're going to blame yourself no matter what I say, but you shouldn't. Olivia is the one who forced things to come out this way."

The upir nodded, knowing that Peter was right but still unable to quash the crippling feelings of guilt, fear and anger that were swirling inside of him.

He took a deep breath, trying to maintain his cool, before looking down to meet his companion's eyes.

Was she afraid of him, now that she knew what he was?

Would she ever be able to face him again?

"Does she hate me?" He asked, his voice suddenly softer than it had been before. Seeing his daughter run from him had been extremely difficult to bear and, while he could understand needing some time alone, he wondered if things could ever really be okay again.

"I can't blame her if she does." He said bitterly, glancing down at the flecks of blood which had now stained his shirt. "I fucking hate myself most of the time. I never—"

Much to his surprise, Peter leaned forward before he could finish his dark thought, cutting him off with a forceful kiss.

Despite it all, he felt himself flush and he gave a small smile as Peter drew back.

"You might be a stubborn prat sometimes, but I, for one, do not hate you." Peter said, giving Roman his best '_I don't want to hear another word of that nonsense'_ look.

"Nadia is pretty freaked out right now, but she doesn't hate you. She knows that you love her, and want to keep her safe—and she loves you too. It's just a lot to take in and she's going to need to come to terms with everything. That will take time."

"Okay." Roman whispered, intertwining his hand with Peter's. "Thanks."

Even though this had quickly become the night from hell, he was happy to have Peter at his side. Sure, the other man could be hotheaded and unpredictable at times, but he was always there when it mattered most.

He was, and always would be, unbelievably grateful for that.

"We'll get through this. Together." Peter said, determination in his blue eyes.

"Together." Roman repeated softly.

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In a hotel room across town, thirty-seven year old Maria Coretti sat alone, starring at the dimmed screen of her laptop.

She had never been in such a drab and depressing setting before and she was quite unimpressed by this taste of American hospitality. The room was poorly maintained, and reeked of bleach and old cigarettes. She suspected that the place hadn't been properly cleaned or redecorated since the 1970s but, while she usually would have complained about such things, she told herself that it was not worth drawing attention to herself.

This was the only hotel on the outskirts of Hemlock Grove, and this was where she needed to be until she completed her mission.

Her work mattered too much and she had already come so far.

Maria wrinkled her nose as she took another bite of the terrible American snack she had purchased from the vending machine down the hall. As much as she hated it here, she was determined not leave until Olivia Godfrey was dead.

After years of following her across Europe Maria had travelled across the Atlantic tracking the elusive upir.

Despite the tiring journey and the unfortunate living conditions, and she knew that she was finally close. She had pinned the woman down to her old hometown and her sensors told her that the woman had taken up residence in the old Godfrey manor.

But, while the mission had seemed straightforward at first, things had now begun to develop in slightly unanticipated ways. Maria had spent the evening collecting data from her tracking devices and she had been surprised to see that they had picked up the aura of more than one upir.

One was clearly Olivia—she had been following her long enough to recognize her imprint on the tracing program. But the other was nearly as powerful. A full grown upir, probably male.

There was a third upir as well, though this one's signal was far fainter. And the device had also indicated the presence of someone else who was not quite human.

Maria's research suggested that the other upir were probably members of Oliva's family. Perhaps her son and daughter who had stayed behind. She had known that their presence would be a possibility, and she had heard rumours that Roman Godfrey had taken after his mother, but she had hoped to tackle one problem at a time.

Unfortunately, it did not seem like that would be a possibility. But she was not, however, easily intimidated.

With a determined smile, Maria pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed.

"Ciao, Ferdinand. I think I am going to need some backup..."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N- Reviews warmly appreciated! Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

"Sweetie, it's time to wake up."

Nadia slowly opened her eyes as the sound of a soft voice awoke her from her slumber. For a moment, she was disoriented. She could tell that she was not in her room, but didn't immediately recognize the white walls or the blue comforter which surrounded her.

As her vision cleared, however, the sight of a large figure standing at the foot of the bed made her sigh with relief.

It was Aunt Shelley, holding a breakfast tray with a gentle smile on her face.

Nadia remembered now. She had come to her Aunt's apartment at the top of the White Tower after fleeing the scene at the Godfrey Manor. She had still been frantic when she had arrived, but Shelley had held her patiently while she wept, and spent the night answering her questions until she finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

"What time is it?" The girl muttered as she rubbed her eyes. The sun had risen by the time she managed to calm down and climb into the guest bed. Nadia figured that she had only managed to get a few hours of rest.

"Almost two o'clock." Shelley replied, placing the tray on the bedside table before sitting down in a nearby chair. "You looked so peaceful and I figured you needed time to recover- I didn't want to wake you sooner."

Nadia sat up quickly, surprised that she had slept for so long. She had probably needed it after the stress of the previous night. Her body still felt jittery, and the slight feeling of nausea had not abated, but it all probably would have been much worse if she had not slept.

Her Aunt, as always, had made the right decision.

"Thanks for letting me stay," she said, swinging her feet over the side of the bed. "I should probably call Peter. And dad. I told them I'd get in touch in the morning. They must be freaking out by now."

Shelley placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Don't worry Nadia, I called them hours ago. They know you're here, but I asked them not to come until you're ready. Your dad understands, and he isn't going to push you to come home until you're comfortable."

Nadia nodded, thankful that her Aunt had dealt with her dad and Uncle Peter.

To be perfectly honest, she wasn't sure how she felt about the situation at the moment.

She still loved her dad, of course. And a part of her craved the familiarity of home. But that didn't change the fact that he had been hiding a massive secret from her her entire life. And, after what she had seen, she had to admit that a part of her was afraid of him.

Last night, Shelley had told her more about upirs and how her father had struggled over the years. And while she was sympathetic to his plight, that didn't change the fact that he was capable of doing a lot of damage. Nadia knew he would never hurt her, but it would take her a while to get over what she had seen last night.

It was still difficult to reconcile the bloodthirsty monster with the father she had always loved.

"How are you feeling?"

She turned towards her aunt, instantly comforted by the concern in her eyes. Despite it all, she knew that this was still a safe place, and she was thankful for that. Shelley had always been the closest thing she had to a mother figure and, as her aunt had explained last night, Shelley had been spared from the Godfrey curse.

Shelley was not upir, and she had never lied to her niece.

"Okay." Nadia replied quickly. "Not great. Still overwhelmed." She amended.

Her aunt nodded.

"I know it is a lot to take in, sweetie." Shelley began tenderly. "I wasn't sure what to think when I first found out what my mother and brother were. But I came to realize that Roman always had been, and always would be, the brother who loved me and took care of me. In the end, that matters more than anything else."

Nadia nodded, wanting to agree. Shelley had always had a way of seeing the best in a situation—but the girl wasn't sure if she was strong enough to do the same.

With a deep sigh, she reached for a piece of bacon from the breakfast tray, devouring it quickly to ease her rumbling stomach.

A comfortable silence fell between them as she ate. Nadia had always liked that Aunt Shelley enjoyed the quiet. She was a woman of few words—but when she spoke, she always made it count.

"What about your mother?" Nadia asked, placing down her fork.

The topic of Olivia had come up last night, but they hadn't discussed it in depth. Nadia had been more concerned about her father, and the revelation that a whole supernatural world existed.

She still wasn't sure what to make of her newly discovered grandmother, however. Clearly her father hated the woman, and Peter didn't trust her either—but Nadia could not deny the instant bond she had felt the night before.

And, although Olivia had instigated last night's drama, it had seemed like she had been on Nadia's side. She hadn't lied to her. She had wanted her granddaughter to know the truth.

Didn't she deserve some credit for that?

"Mother is…complicated." Shelley began softly, her gaze directed down towards the marble floor of her spotless apartment.

"Your father and I both had an interesting upbringing. Mother was never affectionate, but I always knew that a part of her cared. Even for me. She wasn't a good mother in the conventional sense, but she was always there when we needed her." She paused, as if recalling a distant memory. "And there was a time, shortly after you were born, that it seemed as if she had changed. Some of the medication Uncle Johann was giving her brought out her softer side. For a moment, she was the sort of mother I had always dreamt of. But it didn't last."

Nadia nodded sympathetically. She could tell from the tremor in her voice that none of this was easy for her Aunt to talk about, but she appreciated her willingness to share.

"She was terminally ill, and scared, and she acted selfishly." Shelley continued with a sigh. "As you may know, mother and Roman had a huge falling out after that. Mother claimed that she regretted her actions, and begged for our forgiveness, but Roman wasn't willing to hear it. I can't say I blame him, of course. She killed two people to save her own life, and she should not be forgiven for that."

The girl felt her breath catch in her throat.

Killed two people?

She found it difficult to picture the elegant woman she had met last night committing such acts. But, then again, Olivia was an upir and could probably be just as fierce and deadly as her father had looked last night.

A shiver ran down her spine.

"I haven't seen her since then." Shelley noted, a hint of sadness in her voice. "But she has reached out to me a few times over the years, asking for my understanding. I couldn't stand to hear the sound of her voice at first but, eventually, I managed to hear the genuineness in her words. I have been told I am naive, too trusting, but there had been enough moments in my life when I have seen glimpses of what she can be. Olivia Godfrey has done some truly terrible things, but she is still a mother—and a grandmother—and she is capable of love. I am sure of that."

"Do you think she loves me?" Nadia asked softly. She knew it was a silly thing to ask, and she felt like a helpless child almost as soon as the question left her lips.

But the vulnerable part of her wanted to know. She had always wanted to part of a larger family—to have a grandmother she could turn to. Despite it all, a part of her still hoped that could one day come to pass.

"I'm sure she does." Shelley said, patting Nadia's shoulder with one of her heavily bandaged hands. "As you may have guessed, mother is very proud of bring upir—which is why I was always a bit of a disappointment. But you and Roman…to her, you are perfection itself."

The girl snorted finding it absurd, at first, that anyone would see being a bloodthirsty upir as a good thing.

But another part of her, a part she was ashamed of, felt a slight flush of happiness.

She couldn't lie to herself—even though she knew it would make her father angry, she still wanted to give the woman a chance and she hoped that he had not banished her once again.

"Try to think about all of it for a little while, Nadia." Shelley said soothingly. "Enjoy your breakfast. And perhaps we can go for a walk on the grounds after. Whatever you feel like."

Grateful, Nadia smiled up at her. It was ironic that the most frightening looking Godfrey was, in fact, the only one who posed no threat.

The only one who was safe.

"Thanks for everything, Aunt Shelley." She said, feeling calmer than she had since this ordeal had begun.

"Anything for my favourite niece." Shelley replied.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Olivia stared out of the manor's dusty window, her white dress elegantly accentuating her statuesque body.

The house was oppressively silent, and even the warm glow of the afternoon sun had done little to change the dreary atmosphere around her.

Last night had not gone entirely according to plan, and the Godfrey matriarch was not pleased.

It was good, of course, that Nadia knew the truth now. But perhaps the shocking way that it had been revealed had been too much for the girl. Olivia had not wanted to let Roman hide what he was, but seeing her father quench his thirst had been overwhelming for her.

Nadia had fled quickly, before the grandmother had had a chance to explain or take her under her wing.

Olivia had always been one for drama but, it appeared, her flair had backfired on her once again.

She knew, however, that all was not lost.

Perhaps the girl just needed a bit of time to come to terms with things. And, while Roman was undoubtedly furious with her (as always) he had been too distracted by his daughter to banish her from the town.

Shortly after Nadia had left, her son had followed, desperate to apologise for who he was.

Olivia had found the entire thing pathetic, and she wasn't sure what had happened next. She hoped that her son hadn't spent the night poisoning Nadia against her and took comfort in the fact that he was probably too preoccupied with winning his daughter back to care too much about his mother. Although she was impatient, Olivia was willing to take a bit of a step back and wait for an opportunity to reach out once again.

Perhaps it would take years, or even decades, but she was determined to have Roman and Nadia by her side.

The sound of a distant creak gave her a sudden jolt, and she snapped her head around quickly. It was not unusual for the historic manor to bend and groan, but Olivia had been a bit more cautious than usual after a few recent incidents.

She had dealt with her share of hunters and enemies over the years and the most recent nuisance had been a vigilante group of slayers based in Milan. They were armatures, compared to some of the people she had encountered in the past, but she'd had a bit of a close call with one of them during her last trip to Paris. The woman had caught her off guard, and somehow managed to escape with her life. That was a rare thing indeed, when Olivia Godfrey was involved.

Ever since, seemingly harmless creaks and knocks had put Olivia more on edge than usual.

She knew it was absurd to think that the pesky Italians had tracked her all the way to this pitiful Pennsylvania town, thousands of miles away, but she could not ignore the annoying prickle at the back of her neck.

"Bloody paranoid." She muttered to herself as she drew a deep breath.

Nevertheless, there was strength in numbers, and Olivia did not relish the thought of spending another night in the manor alone. Even if her fears were imaginary.

Straightening her back, the upir grabbed her white coat off of a nearby chair and threw it around her shoulders.

It couldn't hurt to take a little drive. Perhaps she would pass by Roman's house and, if she happened to encounter members of her defiant family, maybe they could continue things where they had left off.

Victory would still be hers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She watched, silently, as the deadly upir got into the white Porche.

She had allies stationed throughout the property and, while they had not managed an early attack, Maria was not worried.

Quite the contrary, in fact.

As Olivia revved up the car and made a left turn, the woman could not hold back a smile. She pressed the small red button on her handheld device and brought it up to her mouth.

"The target it on the move." She said, quietly yet forcefully. "Heading west on Oakwood Avenue. She must be going to the hive. Get ready to move out."

"Copy that. Over."

As Olivia's car turned the corner, Maria sat up in her seat, no longer worried about detection. She stuck her keys into the ignition and eagerly awaited the arrival of the others.

Her monitors showed her that only one upir had been at the manor that day, but that others were definitely present in the town.

If her suspicions were correct, Olivia would lead them straight to the others…

Before the night was over, all of the Godfrey abominations would be eliminated, once and for all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

For the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, Roman smiled.

To say that the day had been long and torturous would have been an understatement, and the worried father had spent much of the last several hours sprawled out on the living room couch, anxiously waiting to hear from his daughter or Shelley.

He had known that his sister was right not to force Nadia to come home. "She'll come when she's ready." The woman had said when they had spoken on the phone that morning.

On one level, Roman agreed—his little girl had seen a lot last night, and she needed time and space. But the protective father in him just wanted to hold his princess in his arms and never let go.

It was agony not having her there, and not knowing when (or if) she would be ready to return. He hadn't eaten or slept, despite Peter's attempts to reassure him and snap him out of his daze.

But the buzz of his phone in his pocket had sent a frantic wave of hope through his system and he had retrieved the item to find that his optimism had not been misplaced.

_Nadia says she wants to come home tonight. I'll dive her. We should be there soon. Love Shelley. _

As soon as he finished reading the text, he jumped up off the couch.

"Peter, she's on her way home!" He shouted, unable to contain his joy.

He was still worried of course. Not sure how things would be between them or what he would say.

But at least she would be there. That was a start.

Eagerly, he straightened his hair in the nearest mirror and rubbed his cheeks in an attempt to bring a bit of colour to his deathly pale face.

"Nadia is coming home." He said softly to himself, scarcely able to believe that she was willing to return so soon. "Everything is going to be okay."

At that moment, he could not have known how wrong he was…

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A/N—Sorry if that was a bit slow. The next chapter should contain the action packed climax, and I have two more wrap-up chapters planned after that. Please let me know what you think!

Big thanks to Anglesinstead for being such a loyal reader! I'm glad at least one person is hanging in there :)


	8. Chapter 8

Nadia drew a deep breath as she approached the front door.

The simple act of going home had never felt like such a monumental task. Usually, the sight of the large glass entrance to the Godfrey house filled her with a sense of comfort and familiarity—this was the only home she had ever known, she had grown up here, and most of her childhood memories were undeniably good.

But it was amazing how quickly things could change.

Sixteen years of security and happiness had been rocked by the events of last night. She hadn't forgotten all that had gone on behind those doors, of course—the bedtime stories, the joyful holidays, the epic games of hide and seek with dad and Uncle Peter, the nights when she had curled up between them in bed, afraid of the lightening outside. Now, however, it was what was inside that scared her the most.

On some level, she still knew that she was being irrational. Dad would never hurt her, no matter what, and she had seen the undeniable look of pain and regret on his face during their last confrontation.

He knew he had messed up, and she was fairly certain that he wanted to make amends. Wanted things to go back to normal.

Normal...

Nadia wasn't sure what that even meant anymore. It felt as if the world she had always known was gone. It would probably take a while to get back into some sort of routine. To establish a new norm.

And, as much as she still wanted to curl up into a ball and hide at Aunt Shelley's, she figured it was better to start down the path to recovery sooner rather than later. Despite it all, the thought of pushing her father out of her life was too terrible to bear.

Sure, he had lied—and yes, he had a terrifyingly dangerous side that unnerved her greatly. But she would always love him and she refused to go down the same path of Godfrey dysfunction that he and Olivia had.

That was simply unacceptable.

"It's okay, sweetie. You don't need to be afraid."

Nadia felt Aunt Shelley's hand on her shoulder. It was as if the woman had been reading her mind.

"I know." Nadia replied softly, looking back towards her aunt with a soft smile before redirecting her gaze towards the front door.

Squaring her shoulders, the girl took one more deep breath before placing her hand on the knob and pulling it forward.

The world around her seemed to slow as the foyer came into view. As expected, dad and Peter were waiting anxiously, both of their faces filling with relief as they laid their eyes on her. But, as usual, her dad managed to keep his emotions in check more effectively than his companion.

"Nadia!"

Before she knew it, Peter had his arms around her and had drawn her into a tight hug. Although she was slightly shaken by his quick advance, Nadia still managed to return the gesture. The comfort of his arms filled her with warmth and reassurance.

"Hey." She said, as Peter finally relaxed his grip and have her a chance to breathe. "Don't worry, Aunt Shelley took good care of me."

"Of course, of course." Peter replied, smiling up at the other figure who had just entered the house. "Thanks, Shell. We were so relieved when we found out she was in good hands."

Shelley returned the gypsy's smile, but Nadia could see that her eyes quickly moved towards her brother. Roman had barely moved since they had entered, and she had no idea what to make of the steely expression on his face.

Nadia had expected him to rush over as well but, instead, it seemed as if he was clinging to the wall, his intense blue eyes starring resolutely ahead.

It was almost as if he was afraid of her.

Afraid of making any sudden movements.

Perhaps upirs did have weaknesses after all.

"Dad."

Her voice was barely a whisper, but she could have sworn that he flinched ever so slightly as she spoke.

For a second, Nadia marvelled at how he managed to look so stoic and yet so vulnerable at the same time. His face looked as if it had been carved in stone, eternal and ageless, but his deep set eyes looked scared. He had never looked quite as young to her as he did right now. It was a wonder that she had never questioned his youthful appearance before.

Although her throat felt dry and her legs were unsteady, Nadia took a step towards him, turning her back on Shelley and Peter. Thankfully, neither interfered—they both knew that father and daughter needed this moment.

"Dad, I—" Nadia began again, trying to keep her voice calm and controlled. "I'm sorry I ran off last night. I just needed some time."

After a brief pause, Roman nodded, his expression still set.

"There is no need to apologise, Nadia." He replied, standing firmly in his spot several feet away. "All of the apologies should be mine. I never should have lied to you and I never wanted things to come out like that. You have every right to be afraid—you were right about what I am. About what I am capable of. And I know there is nothing I can do to change things. Believe me, I've tried."

Nadia took a shaky breath and took another cautious step forward. Despite his façade, she could hear the pain in his voice and she knew that Peter and Shelley had been right. He had never asked for this life, and he had spent years fighting against it. Perhaps there was nothing he could do to change what he was—what she was—but desire and effort certainly counted for something.

"I now you've tried." The girl said, her eyes suddenly burning with unshed emotion. "And I don't need you to change…" She trailed off, looking up to meet his gaze. "I just need my daddy."

"Nadia, I—"

She could see him falter and, before he had a chance to choke out another word, she took another step forward and cut him off with a much-needed hug. For a second he stiffened, but as she burrowed her head into his chest she felt him wrap his arms around her.

For a blissful moment, nothing else mattered. Her dad was holding her close, as he often did, as he had so many times before.

Upirs. Blood. Family curses.

All of it seemed to fade away.

For the first time since everything had begun, father and daughter shared a smile.

"My little princess." Roman murmured as the girl finally released him from her embrace. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

Both of their eyes had welled with tears, but neither seemed to care. The joy of a reunion had now overcome the tension and fear. With a small chuckle, Nadia gave him a playful punch in the arm.

"Don't be so mushy, dad." She admonished, attempting one of her patented eye rolls. "I thought vampires were supposed to be all tough and badass."

Roman snorted back, before brushing a stray lock of blonde hair from her face. For a second, he looked amused, but as he continued to gaze down at her his expression grew serious once more.

"I won't let anything happen to you. I swear."

"I know." Nadia replied.

She heard the sound of footsteps and, soon after, she felt Peter place a hand on her shoulder.

"Why don't we all get out of the hallway?" He suggested helpfully. "We've sent the staff home for the day, but I can whip us up some tea and snacks in the kitchen."

The girl nodded eagerly. She had been too anxious to eat much since breakfast and an evening snack in the kitchen sounded like the perfect way to readjust to being home and start talking things though. Although Peter and her Aunt had told her quite a bit, she had a feeling that there were more Godfrey stories to be shared, for better or worse. And she still wanted to know more about how Peter had become wrapped up in all of this.

Perhaps he had some secrets of his own.

"That sounds—"

BANG

Before Nadia could respond, a loud noise echoed through the room. Startled, she turned just in time to see the front door fly open forcefully to reveal several darkly clothed, and heavily armed, individuals.

"Nobody move." One of the figures shouted, her voice thick with a European accent.

Momentarily stunned, Peter and the Godfrey's obeyed, watching as two of her lackeys pushed an unconscious individual into the room, tossing her lifeless body roughly down onto the floor.

Nadia's breath caught in her throat as she looked down.

The body was Olivia's, and she appeared to have a wooden object protruding from her bloodied chest.

With a spiteful sneer, the ringleader moved forward, giving her grandmother's body a rough kick as she stepped over it.

"Who's next?" She asked.

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Roman's head was spinning. What had begun as a happy reunion with his daughter had suddenly devolved into a confusing mess.

He had no idea who had just bust into his house, or how they managed to subdue his mother. Olivia was many things, but she was always a fighter—if these people had injured (or killed?) her like this, then they certainly posed a threat.

His body tingled as his protective instincts began to kick in. He may not have cared deeply for Olivia, but there was no way in hell that he was going to let them come any closer to the rest of his family.

He was going to end this.

Now.

"Get the fuck out of my house." He growled, his eyes flashing with a deadly determination.

Ignoring the woman's order to stand still, he took a daring step forward his eyes locked on the intruder's dark sunglasses. He felt Peter at his side, and he knew that they would both be willing to strike if these scum made any stupid moves. They clearly had no idea who, or what, they were dealing with.

"Get out. Now."

Perhaps he had been foolish to think that it would be that easy. Instead of backing away, compelled by his upir mind control, the woman simply smirked.

"Nice try, Roman." She said, her voice calm and cool as she gestured towards her dark sunglasses. "But we are prepared for your parlour tricks."

Roman felt a chill run through him. Although he still probably had an upper hand, the woman clearly did know what he was, and had anticipated some of his most obvious moves. As he took a second to examine her and her companions more closely, he could see that all were armed with a variety of archaic looking weapons.

Crossbows. Wooden stakes. Daggers.

Clearly, they had come with a plan and a clear target in mind.

"Who are you? What do you want?" He demanded, taking a quick glace behind him to ensure that Nadia and Shelley were still safely out of reach.

There were only six intruders. He knew that he and Peter could probably take them alone, but he was quite sure that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the fight until he knew that the girls were safe.

He needed to stall. He needed to get them out of the way.

"I am Maria Coretti, and we are _Il Cacciatori_." The woman replied, looking towards him with disgust. "The Hunters. It is our ancient mission to rid the earth of upir filth like you."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Roman felt the sudden urge to roll his eyes. He had had quite enough of vigilante groups over the years. The Order of the Dragon had not been the only crackpot supernatural fighters to cross his path and, although he had not had to deal with any serious threats in nearly a decade, it seemed as if this would be a recurring theme in his life.

These sorts of people always came with abstracted ideas about upirs and werewolves, never once stopping to think about the other side, about the human desire and emotions they all shared.

Needless to say, his patience for such things was incredibly thin.

"I am giving you ten seconds to escape with your lives." Roman replied, giving Peter a subtle nod. The gypsy nodded back before crouching down beside him, his eyes suddenly glowing a dangerous yellow. "I highly recommend that you take me up on my very generous offer."

In truth, he did not think that any of them would take their chance for escape. In his experience, people who joined these groups were usually too far down their delusional paths to ever back away. They always went to their deaths, strong in their misguided convictions.

But it was worth a shot. He was not in the mood for bloodshed, and a fierce fight was the last thing that he wanted Nadia to see after the trauma of last night. Sure, he would rip all of their throats out if it came to it, but that was not the side he wanted to put on display right now.

Not after she had just come back.

As Peter let out a moan of pain at his side, signalling the start of his transformation, Roman put a hand behind his back, frantically gesturing Nadia and Shelley towards the safe room upstairs. It was too risky to turn around or shout out instructions to them, but he hoped that they would understand his silent plea.

"Leave? Ha!" Maria let out a cold laugh as her hand moved towards one of the stakes strapped to her belt. "I have tracked Olivia Godfrey for months. Slaying her is a sweet victory in itself, but the discovery of this upir hive is too good an opportunity to pass up. There is rumour back home that other Godfrey abominations existed, but I never expected to find you all in one place." Her eyes flickered towards Peter for a second and her sickening smile widened. "And such company you keep too. Disgusting creatures, all of you. Many will praise my name for this."

Roman felt his anger surge as she spoke. The ignorant bitch had no right to speak about him and his family in that way.

"This is not a hive." He spat, his stance even more aggressive than before. Peter let out another cry at his side, his skin now falling off to reveal the beast below. It was only a matter of time before the wolf was ready to fight. "We are a family that just wants live in peace, safe from psychos like you."

"Roman Godfrey—Upir." Maria began calmly, as if reciting something as mundane as a multiplication table. "Shelley Godfrey—a crime against nature. And Nadia Godfrey…" She paused, looking towards the girl who was now cowering behind her aunt, terrified by both the invasion and Peter's shocking cries. "Not a full upir yet, but it's only a matter of time before she turns. Trust me, child, you are better off dead by my hand than condemned to the life of a bloodthirsty, monst—"

Before he fully knew what was happening, Roman let out a roar of rage and lunged towards Maria, his eyes flashing and his fangs barred. The words she had directed at Nadia had been the last straw, and he was no longer able to hold himself back.

The bitch was asking for it. And he would deliver.

The room around him instantly exploded into chaos. Maria was fast, and apparently well trained, but while he missed making fatal contact with her neck she let out a scream of pain as he tore a sizable chunk of flesh out of her left arm.

The blood and skin slid down his throat, instantly energizing him. His appetite was awakened, and he sprang forward for more.

But this time, Maria was more prepared. As he tackled her to the floor, she drove her stake into his leg. Although he knew it was not a fatal blow and would quickly heal, he was taken aback long enough to be pulled away by two of the other intruders. The men flung him to the ground next to his immobile mother, grasping at their own weapons as they prepared for another attack.

Thankfully, before either could move towards him, a black blur tackled them both to the ground. It was Peter, now in his wolf form and ready for the ensuing fight. The nearest man let out a cry of pain as the wolf sank his teeth into his throat.

Roman felt some of the red liquid spray onto his face and his mouth turned into the smallest of smiles.

Now recovered, the upir lunged towards his second assailant, his fangs making contract with his neck. Roman barely noticed his cries of pain as he frantically consumed the swiftly flowing blood. His own heart was pounding rapidly in his chest—despite it all, he could not remember the last time he had felt so alive.

The fresh human blood made him feel as if his body was in hyper drive.

He felt strong.

Invincible.

Incredible.

Knowing that he did not have time to drink his fill, Roman released his unexpected meal and quickly snapped his neck before letting the lifeless body fall back to the ground.

As he looked up and wiped some of the blood from his face, he could see that Peter was taking on another of the intruders, while Shelley was fighting off two of her own in the corner of the room.

He was about to cry out for Nadia, who was not in his immediate line of vision, when another sound momentarily distracted him.

Beside him, Olivia let out a soft moan and, as he looked down, he could see her eyelids flickering. A strange combination of irritation and relief passed through him as he realized that Maria had not achieved the victory she had been gloating about. Perhaps the attack had wounded Olivia, but it would take more than a crazed vigilante and a piece of wood to take her out for good.

With a rough sigh, Roman pulled the stake from her abdomen to speed up the healing process and shoved one of the assailants dying bodies towards her.

He knew that this was no time for family vendettas— they could use all the help they could get. He would never really trust Olivia, but he knew that she would protect her granddaughter in a fight. He could not afford to be dismissive of that right now.

"Drink." He growled, before getting to his feet and doing another frantic survey of his surroundings.

He still didn't see Nadia and he instantly called out her name.

"_Monstro_."

He heard Maria shriek from behind him and he turned just in time to see her surge forward once again. Apparently, no one had managed to subdue the miserable bitch yet and, caught off guard, Roman toppled to the floor.

She was on top of him now, a maniacal hatred in her eyes.

"_Morire, mostro_." Maria hissed, her weapon poised dangerously over his undead heart.

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Nadia had stumbled into the dining room just as the fighting had begun to heat up.

Her body was numb with shock as she tried to steady herself against a chair—it took all of her energy not to crumble onto the floor.

Perhaps she should have known that her return home had been too good to be true. For a second, she had seen a glimpse of the dad she had always known and loved, and he had promised to keep her safe.

But she knew that his promises could only go so far.

The intruders had bust in, her grandmother was dead, and they had announced their intension to kill everyone else as well.

That woman had called her an abomination.

A monster.

Nadia had never seen anyone look at her with such intense hatred in their eyes. For a second, she had even wondered if the words were true. Sure, she hadn't done anything to anyone—until yesterday, her sixteen years had been relatively normal.

But now, she knew what was inside her. Somewhere, deep down, an upir lurked. She had even felt something stirring within when the people had bust in. A certain, unnerving, instinct.

For a second, she had wanted to see them bleed. She had wanted to tear them apart.

But the sight of her dad doing just that had broken her out of her trance. There had been blood. So much blood.

And Peter. She had held back a scream as she saw him become…something monstrous. It had all been so fast, so surreal. All she could remember clearly was the sight of his tattered and bloody skin falling to the ground as something emerged from beneath.

Nadia had never seen anything so horrific in her life.

She had been frozen in shock until Aunt Shelley had pushed her into the dining room. "Lock the door." She had whispered fanatically. "Try to get to the safe room upstairs."

Nadia had been too dumbfounded to protest, but now that she was alone in this room, listening to the sound of screams outside, she wasn't sure if she could obey her aunt's command.

Could she really cower in the distance as her family fought for their lives?

On the other hand, she wasn't sure how helpful she could be. She didn't have fangs, she wasn't seven feet tall, and she couldn't transform into anything dangerous. Nadia had never fought anyone in her life, and she understood why the others wanted to keep her safe.

Another scream echoed from the foyer and Nadia felt her eyes welling with tears.

The voice had sounded like her father's, and she hated that she didn't know what was happening. Hated that she didn't know if they were okay.

There had to be something she could do.

Growing desperate, Nadia looked around the dining room, her eyes resting on an item she had rarely given a second glance.

Above the mantle, her father had mounted a strange medieval-style double sided battle axe. It had been there for as long as she could remember, and she had always dismissed it as one of his many strange artistic acquisitions.

But now, she could not help but wonder if it could be more than just decorative.

Heart racing, she ran over to the mantle and reached up for the strange item. It was heavier than anticipated, but a cautious brush against the metal head told her that it was, in fact, sharp and ready. Still terrified, but attempting to psyche herself up, Nadia have it a few swings, attempting to familiarize herself with the item.

It was cumbersome, and much too long for her to use comfortably—but, before she had a chance to rethink her plan, a loud noise from the other side of the room caused her to jump back defensively.

Much to her surprise, a man who was dressed like the other intruders burst through the back door, weapon in hand. Apparently, the attackers in the hallway were not alone.

"I see the little upir has found herself a big weapon." The man sneered, clearly not intimated.

Although she felt as if she was about to vomit, Nadia did her best to look intimidating. "Don't come any closer." She shouted, waving the weapon in front of her.

Annoyingly, he simply scoffed before charging towards her, as determined as ever.

Surprised by his swift motions, Nadia let out a yelp and frantically swung the weapon. Her eyes were barely opened and she was too startled to really take aim but, miraculously, she managed to slice the front of his leg.

The cut was deep, and the man stumbled forward with a shout of pain, missing his target and toppling onto the floor.

"Stupid bitch." He cried, waving his arms towards her.

Nadia jumped back, surprised by her marginal success. He wasn't fatally wounded but he was, at least, incapacitated for the moment.

The scent of fresh blood filled the air as the wound continued to gush. She was struck, for a moment, by how sweet and alluring it smelled.

A loud thud from the kitchen quickly broke her out of her trance. She was willing to bet that more attackers were about to come through the back door and she knew that she needed to warn her family about the new surge. Thinking quickly, Nadia shoved a heavy cabinet against the back dining room door before picking up the axe again and running back towards the hallway.

She could still hear shouts and screams, and she had no idea what sort of scene awaited her.

As she rounded the corner, Nadia's heart began to pound even faster. She could see several lifeless bodies on the floor, but a quick survey of the room showed that they did not belong to her family. Shelley was engaged in hand to hand combat with a female assailant. A giant wolf (Peter?) had tackled another to the ground…

…and her father, his face bloodied and his fangs exposed, had just been pushed down by the ringleader herself.

She was hovering over him now, somehow managing to look more terrifying and deadly than a fully grown upir.

Nadia saw Maria draw her weapon as she shouted something in Italian. Her father, apparently surprised by her attack, looked up in shock.

The wold seemed to slow as Maria readied her weapon over Roman's heart.

Mortified and full of fury, Nadia cried out and took off across the room, the axe held firmly in her hand.

Her only thought was saving her father.

With a strength she did not know she possessed, Nadia swung the mighty weapon at the woman, lurching back as she made contact with Maria's abdomen. The large head of the axe struck hard, piercing the woman's flesh and spraying Nadia with a fresh wave of blood.

Maria fell back, away from Roman, her own weapon falling harmlessly to the floor.

Shocked by what she had done, and by the look of fear and contempt in Maria's eyes, Nadia maintained her grip on the double-sided axe. She was too stunned to let go and, as her target crumpled to the floor, the weapon was released from the flesh and the girl stumbled back.

For a second, Nadia smiled, looking over at her unharmed father as he scrambled to his feet.

"I did it, dad." She said softly.

For some reason, rather than returning her smile, her dad looked terrified and he rushed towards her, tears instantly filling his eyes.

She heard him shout "no" and Nadia finally looked down to see that the small end of the axe had embedded itself into her stomach.

When she had swung at Maria with one end, the other end had pierced her own flesh.

A white hot wave of pain suddenly flashed through her.

And the world went dark.

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A/N Please tell me what you think! More to come!


	9. Chapter 9

"NO!"

Even though his cry nearly shook the room, he knew that it was in vain.

Roman watched, helplessly, as Nadia fell to the floor.

By the time he reached her side, there was already blood pooling around her, soaking her shirt and the carpet beneath. Frantic, desperate, he brought his shaking hands to the wound, fruitlessly trying to apply pressure and stop the flow.

Within seconds, his hands were covered in red and he let out another strangled cry as he watched his daughter's breathing begin to slow.

This couldn't be happening, he thought, his mind racing in panic. Not now. Not his Nadia.

It couldn't possibly end like this.

He was vaguely aware of another figure at his side and he sat by, numbly, as she attempted to sop up some of the blood with a scarf he had left near the front door. It was Olivia, now recovered from her brief incapacitation by the hunters, but Roman was too stunned and distraught to really care.

"Come on, darling. We need to get her somewhere safe. We can't stay here."

Too weak to fight back, he allowed his mother to pull him to his feet as Shelley dashed over to pick up the injured girl. In his peripheral vision, he saw Peter take down the last assassin before running over as well, his warm furry body brushing against Roman's leg.

Letting out a sharp bark, Peter tilted his head towards the safe room at the top of the stairs—the room where Nadia (unbeknownst to her now) had spent the first few months of her life. Although it had not remained her bedroom, Roman had kept the locks in place and now used it for sensitive storage items.

Dazed, he nodded, and the motley group quickly made their way up the stairs, stirred on by the sound of more intruders crashing through the back windows.

Apparently, the fight wasn't over. But there was no way they could continue to wage it now.

Nadia was the priority, and Roman knew that he would not be able to function until she was okay.

Shaking, he used his blood stained hands to punch in the access code and they all burst through the door, closing it quickly behind them. Once the second door was cleared, Shelley placed Nadia on the floor of her old room before proceeding to grab any stray towels or pieces of fabric she could find. Olivia, too, set to work, making a makeshift pillow out of some old clothes and placing it under the girl's head.

As they moved around him, Roman sat in silence, one hand clasped around Nadia's, and the other placed on her clammy forehead. He could still hear a heartbeat, and he could still feel a slight warmth under her skin, but a part of him already knew what was to come.

The wound had been deep, and the blood loss was severe.

"Nadia, please wake up."

His little girl was dying.

"Nadia. You can't go."

They needed to get help.

As he let out a gut wrenching sob, he felt Peter's warm muzzle against his arm. Although he knew it was a gesture of comfort, he jerked away, not wanting any reassuring or pitiful motions. The time for comfort had passed. There was nothing that anyone could do now.

Instinctually, he turned towards the wolf and let out a loud hiss, his deadly teeth flashing dangerously. He could see that Shelley and Olivia had backed away as well. Their ashen faces betraying their own lack of optimism.

Roman could not imagine life without Nadia. He had never wanted to be a father, but after he had let her into his life, there had been no looking back. He loved her more than he had ever loved anyone before—more than Peter, more than Shelley, more than Letha.

She was always his little princess. The light in his otherwise dark existence. The thing that kept him human, even after he had turned.

The cravings, the bloodlust and the death never went away. And he knew they never would. But whenever Nadia smiled, Roman instantly remembered why he carried on.

"My baby," he muttered, his voice cracking with emotion as he ran a hand across her pale face. He cringed at the streak of blood he left behind—a mark left on her otherwise perfect visage. A mark left by him.

He had been foolish, he thought bitterly, to believe that he could keep such a precious thing safe in his twisted world.

Words from long ago suddenly drifted through his mind: _God doesn't want you to be happy, Roman. _

He had always been cursed. And so was she.

A new, fresh, shiver ran through him.

Everything in the last few minutes had been a blur, and he wished more than anything that he could erase it all from his mind.

But there was one detail that now stood out.

One detail that was more important than all else.

"She was holding the axe." Roman whispered, his mind spinning and his eyes burning with tears. "The axe was in her hand, and that's what did it. Her own hand."

There was a pause as he tried to recall the scene which had unfolded. Maria had tackled him, was ready to strike. Then Nadia had come out of nowhere with his old axe, swinging it at the woman and, in the process, piercing herself with the other sharpened end.

He heard Olivia give a small gasp as she crouched down on the girl's other side. "Roman, do you mean she's…"

"OUT!"

He cut her off in mid-sentence, unable to bare the look of relief and joy on her face. It filled him with rage to see her look down at his dying child like that.

He hated her for it.

The bitch had probably wanted this all along.

"GET OUT!"

Obeying, the three others reluctantly backed into the safe room's foyer, leaving father and daughter alone.

Now in silence, Roman allowed another round of sobs to wrack his body.

He was overwhelmed—angry, heartbroken, terrified….

And, he had to admit as his rage towards Olivia abated, he too was slightly relieved. He had never wanted this. Any of this. Especially for his precious little girl.

But the thought of having Nadia in his life in any capacity was better than nothing at all.

Perhaps it was selfish, condemning her to a half-life like his, but he could honestly say that it was better than losing her for good.

It wasn't what he had wanted, but at least he could teach her how to be upir. How to keep things under control and lead some semblance of a normal life.

She could always be at his side.

Roman flinched as he heard her draw a ragged breath. Her skin was so pale now, nearly as pale as his own, and he knew it was only a matter of time.

Despite his better judgement, he crawled behind her, gently cradling her head in his lap as he slowly rocked back and forth.

"Acesta va fi în regulă, draga mea." Roman whispered, placing a kiss on her cold forehead. "It will be okay."

Moments later, her last gentle, human, breath left her and her eyes sprung open in surprise. They were as impossibly blue as they had been when she was an infant, no longer faded with time.

She gasped loudly, sucking loud gulps of air that she didn't really need, before shakily pushing herself into a sitting position. She looked around the room, confused, before Roman placed a gentle hand on her cool cheek.

He could tell already that she was different, and it pained him to know that her life would never be the same. But, even though this day had brought all of his deepest nightmares to pass, the sight of his beautiful daughter still brought him undeniable joy.

"Welcome back, my treasure." He whispered, having no idea that those same words had once been uttered before.

Nadia smiled, her white fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

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The world around her somehow seemed more vibrant than it ever had before.

Nadia could hear her father's heartbeat, and the heartbeats of three other individuals nearby. The room around her was bright and clear, and she could smell the sweet scent of blood.

She looked around the room, trying to make sense of her surroundings and the strange sensations she was feeling.

They were in the safe room she had only been in a few times before, and she reasoned that she must have blacked out in the midst of the fight. Although she probably should have felt weak and shaky, her body was somehow humming with energy. She felt strong. And yet, oddly hungry…

Despite her disorientation, her first reaction as her dad leaned towards her was to smile. She had a vague recollection of a recent injury but she now felt completely fine and she was happy to be somewhere quiet, away from the chaos elsewhere in the house.

Nadia soon noticed, however, that her father's eyes were red with tears and that his hands and arms were completely caked with crimson. He looked like he had been through hell and back and she furrowed her brow in concern.

"Dad, what's wrong?" She asked, suddenly aware of a throbbing tenderness in her gums. "How did we get here?"

"I…you…" Her dad stuttered, his voice raw and shaky. She could not remember ever seeing him quite like this—he looked defeated. Overwhelmed. And it was as if every ounce of strength had been sucked out of him.

His demeanour was nothing like the powerful upir he had been in the foyer—lunging at his enemies to defend his family, prepared to tear them limb to limb.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He finally managed.

Nadia paused for a second, trying to recall what had happened before she had woken up. Judging from her father's expression, it had not been good.

"I was in the dining room." She began slowly, rubbing her forehead with her hand as if to draw out the buried memories. "I found an axe, and I ran into the other room to help you guys fight. That awful woman was about to stab you, so I swung the axe as hard as I could."

Nadia paused for a second, finding it more difficult to recall what had happened next. She had a clear image in her mind of Maria hovering over her father, but she could not, for some reason, recall how things had played out. Clearly, she and her dad were okay, and she could sense Peter and Shelley nearby, which probably meant…

"Did I…kill her?" Nadia asked reluctantly, her eyes widening. Perhaps she had been better with the axe than she had thought. She had certainly intended to get the woman away from her dad, and she had been too scared and full of adrenaline to really think things through. But the notion that she had taken someone's life disturbed her greatly, even if that person had burst into their home and wanted them all destroyed.

"I don't know." Her dad answered softly, his eyes still locked on her as if he was stunned by her mere existence. "We had to get you out of there."

Nadia furrowed her brow again. He was being vague, and she still had no idea why he looked so ragged and distressed.

"Why?" She pressed, feeling slightly annoyed by his short answers. The girl paused for a second, surveying her surroundings and straining to remember any missing details from before her blackout. "I'm fine."

"Nadia—" he said her name softly, almost as if it was a painful word, and she watched as his eyes looked down towards her abdomen.

Confused, she followed his gaze, noting for the first time since she awoke that her shirt was torn and covered in blood. Lots of blood. It looked as if she had been stabbed but, as she frantically moved her hands towards the area, she found that her skin was unbroken. The only evidence of injury was a small white scar.

She looked back up quickly, only to see Roman's eyes welling with tears once more.

Before she could ask any further questions, he choked out what they both already knew.

"The axe stabbed you as well. You died." He stated, gently placing his hand on her arm. "I'm so sorry."

Nadia froze, her body tingling as she tried to absorb the news. She knew he wasn't lying—his face and the remains of her injury convinced her of that. In the heat of her attack, she had fatally wounded herself.

She had _died_.

She was _dead_.

And yet, she was still here.

Suddenly, it all fell into place. That was why everything felt so weird. Why she could not ignore the smell of blood that surrounded her. Why her stomach felt so ravenously empty.

The plethora of new sensations that she had been feeling instantly felt magnified, and she jerked away from her father, bringing a shocked hand to cover her mouth. She could feel the disturbingly pointed incisors which had appeared in her mouth and she skidded further away, not stopping until her back was against the nearest wall.

This couldn't be happening, she thought frantically, trying to process the undeniable truth.

She couldn't be a…

"Nadia, it will be okay." Her dad said gently, looking disturbed by her distress but trying her best to offer a glimmer of reassurance. "I know how hard this is, but I can help you through it."

She shook her head, not wanting to open her mouth and expose the hideous fangs hidden behind her lips.

The woman downstairs had been right—she was a monster.

Part of her always had been…and now, that side had taken over completely.

It seemed so surreal and, three short days ago, she probably wouldn't have believed any of it. But her old life now felt like a distant memory. She had barely come to terms with all that she had learned about her family before being thrown into that dark world herself.

She truly was one of them now, and there would be no turning back.

Her head swirled with a rush of emotions, but even that faded into the distance as she realized what was weighing on her more than everything else.

The all-consuming emptiness of her stomach threatened to overwhelm her and, desperate, starving, she forced herself to look back up at her father.

"I'm hungry." She whispered, her hand still covering her monstrous mouth. She was ashamed to admit it, but too ravenous to hold back. "It hurts."

With a nod, Roman scrambled to his feet, a look of grim determination in his eyes. "I know, princess." He said, his voice full of sympathy and understanding.

Quickly, he went over to a large black cabinet that she had not yet noticed and typed a combination into the keypad. She could not immediately see what he had grabbed from inside the unit, but as he walked back towards her, her eyes widened in realization.

It was a blood bag. Exactly like those she had seen in hospitals.

Part of her was sickened by the sight but, as her body picked up the scent, she knew she would not be able to resist.

"Is it…human?" She choked out as her father knelt before her, the bag in his hand. Her stomach was screaming for it, and she was pretty sure that she already knew the answer.

"Yes." He replied simply, making no attempt to hide the truth.

Though the thought disturbed her, she was unable to resist any longer and she hungrily grabbed the bag, sinking her fangs into the thin plastic to reach the intoxicating substance within.

As soon as the sweet liquid began to slide down her throat the world around her seemed to fade away. For a moment, all she felt was the pure bliss of the delectable fluid.

She drank greedily.

Unashamedly.

No longer caring about her human façade.

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As Roman watched his daughter consume her first meal, he was surprised by his own lack of revulsion.

He had pictured such a scene before, in some of his darker moments, and he had vowed that he would not let such an awful thing come to pass. He had always hated his own insatiable need for blood, and it had disturbed him to think that his daughter might one day be plagued with the same inhuman appetite.

But, while he was undoubtedly ridden with guilt and teeming with regret, as she sunk her lethal fangs into the bag of blood, he was struck by the timelessness of her beauty.

She had always been perfect to him, but now she was raw. Powerful. Stunning.

It was disturbing to admit, and he hated himself for it, but he could not suppress the echo of Olivia's words in his mind. _'You're beautiful, darling.'_ She had often said, her eyes full of admiration as he took on his true form. '_I'm so proud of you._'

He had never believed her, always dismissing her words as part of some twisted plan to manipulate him.

As he watched his own daughter, however, he began to wonder if he had been too harsh. Despite it all, Nadia truly was a striking sight to behold. And, on some level, things seemed right.

As the last of the liquid was drained, she slowly looked towards him, her eyes full of guilt and disgrace. A trickle of blood ran down the side of her mouth, and he reached towards her before she had time to look away.

"Don't be ashamed, princess." He said and she gently wiped away the small stream of crimson with his thumb. "You'll always be beautiful."

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A/N Any feedback is much appreciated! I hope a few people are still reading.


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